Chapter Eight

Aiyana.

Saamal snarled, fingers flexing around the empty air that had held Aiyana a moment before. He’d been ripped from her arms—literally. He’d proposed, she’d said yes. He had been on the cusp of the greatest moment of his life—and he’d been ripped away.

Rage boiled in Saamal’s veins, flooding through his fingertips until pain told him his claws were out in force. He opened his eyes and was almost surprised to find the entire world wasn’t colored in red, so great was his fury. Adonis’ face appeared over him, hazel eyes concerned, his hair tangled into a mess of spikes as if he’d been running his hands through it. Before Saamal could think better of it, he thrust out his hand to grab the demon by the neck.

But his arm didn’t move. Saamal gritted his teeth, straining to force the muscles in his arm to respond, trying to grab the demon he was nearly certain was responsible for dragging him back to the physical plane, going against Saamal’s wishes and taking him away from his bride. No amount of force or willpower could make his arm move, not even so much as twitch. Frustration forced his rage to new heights and he bit back a howl.

“He’s alive,” Adonis shouted.

A second later, Etienne’s face appeared next to the incubus’. “Is he all right?”

“He’d be better if he wasn’t such a fool.” Adonis glared at Saamal, his irises flickering red. “None of you listen. You are tied to the land, Saamal, you said so yourself. You cannot spend that much time on the astral plane.”

Saamal choked, tried to get his breath enough to speak. When he finally managed to get his voice to work, his words came out hoarse, barely there. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You drank the elixir of the sun twice in as many hours, went to the astral plane, had a battle with some creature there, then went back without waiting until you’d regained even half of your energy,” Adonis told him, deep creases forming around his eyes. He shook his head, the crimson sparks in his eyes flaring brighter. “Dammit, Saamal, you picked a devil of a time for that eternal patience of yours to lapse.”

Saamal tried to concentrate on what Adonis was saying. The incubus seemed angry, but why? What did it matter to him if Saamal weakened himself, took risks that perhaps were not entirely wise? Wasn’t that why he and Etienne were here, to allow Saamal time to let his guard down?

A dull ache spread from the base of his skull and Saamal closed his eyes for a moment. His head was still cloudy and his body weighed far more than it should. He couldn’t move his limbs, and even speaking was a herculean task. If his faith in Etienne’s and Adonis’ abilities had been even a fraction less, his panic would be reaching new heights by now.

It wasn’t until he’d calmed down to concentrate on his breathing that the pounding of his heart quieted enough for him to become aware of the noise coming from outside the castle window. Growls, howls, and a high-pitched screeching that threatened to snap every nerve in his ears. The scent of blood hit him like a rampaging bear and his eyes flew open.

“What’s happening out there?” he demanded, his voice breaking as he tried to force volume from his vocal chords.

Etienne’s face was grim, golden eyes serious. “The jaguars started growing uneasy a few seconds after your consciousness left for the astral plane again. I tried to calm them, but their agitation only continued to grow.”

Saamal’s stomach tightened, twisting into a series of knots. “They are my first line of defense. If they are upset, then something bad is happening.”

Etienne pressed his lips into a thin line, and he nodded once. “They were right. Saamal, the land…it’s gone mad.”

“What do you mean?” Saamal fought once again to move, but his body barely twitched. He clenched his jaw, fighting to draw more power to him, to concentrate what he had.

“He means everything out there is pure chaos,” Adonis answered him, the disapproval in his voice giving way to deeper tones of dread. “The ground is shaking like it intends to cast everything on it into the sky. Great pits like the one you pointed to outside have been opening up everywhere, and the sky has shifted to a most unsettling shade of green.” The incubus glanced at the window, shifting uneasily on his feet. “The last time I saw anything like it was on the astral plane, after Ivy panicked at the seaside. Her fear twisted the world into a true nightmare—and that was nothing compared to what’s happening outside these walls.”

“Cipactli.” Horror blossomed in Saamal’s chest, closing like talons around his heart and squeezing until it was hard to breathe. “When I woke up, you said ‘He’s alive.’ Did you think I was dead?”

“Yes,” Etienne responded. “Even I could scarcely hear your heartbeat. For a time, it seemed as if you were no longer of this world.”

“No. No, this can’t be. If I was truly so separated from the land, if I faded as much as you say, then Cipactli would have felt it. If she thought that I died…”

“She would have no reason to think the pact would ever be made good again,” Adonis breathed.

“Yes.” Saamal tried to rise again, and once again found himself unable to move. Panic sent acidic tendrils through his blood, poisoning him even as he fought against it. “I have to get out of here, I have to touch the land. I must let her know that I’m still here or she will attempt to break her bonds.”

“You mean the giant crocodile your kingdom sits on might try to…stand up?” Adonis blinked.

Saamal gritted his teeth and managed to flex the fingers of his right hand. The movement was sluggish, weak—embarrassingly so, but still he moved. “Yes.” Relief trickled through him as he dared to hope he could overcome the elixir of the sun’s effects in time. “Adonis, help me up.”

The demon nodded his understanding. His flesh wavered, crimson coloring his skin as onyx leathery wings unfolded behind him, lashing through the air as they fought free of his body. Horns curled around his temples and his eyes lit up like twin suns. He scooped Saamal up in his arms and carried him to the window. Vicious winds tried to rip him from Adonis’ arms as the demon hefted them both onto the ledge then launched himself into the air. Saamal looked out over the land and his heart seized in his chest.

Chaos. Adonis and Etienne were right, the land itself was going mad. The briars were writhing like a nest of snakes, upset by the wild bucking of the earth beneath them. Adonis rolled with a sudden gust of wind, dodging a lashing limb covered in wicked thorns as long as a dragon’s eyeteeth. They lurched to the side and nearly tumbled to the earth as the demon fought against a violent crosswind, trying to land on a piece of earth that was not rolling in agony or collapsing into a jagged-bottomed pit.

Finally they dropped, scarcely missing the lip of the original pit Saamal had noticed by the castle. He rolled out of Adonis’ arms and pressed his palms to the earth, letting gravity pull his weakened flesh into the dirt. The rush of energy he should have felt, even with the land as barren as it was, was a mere trickle. Saamal gritted his teeth and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths, blocking out the elemental discord around him. He called the sluggish spirit of the jaguar from inside him, extending his claws then curling them until the sharp tips dug into his palms.

Warm blood washed over his hands and he pressed them to the earth. “Cipactli, hear me.”

The earth heaved and thrashed, sending Saamal flying dangerously close to the pit. His body rolled like a ragdoll tossed by the wind as he struggled to find the energy to make his arms move enough to stop himself. He scrabbled at the dirt, slowing his momentum as he reached the precipice of the pit. He peered over the edge at the gleaming vicious rocks lining the earthen floor. Hot air blasted from the pit, the breath of an infuriated Cipactli. Nerves writhed with dismayed energy. He imagined he could feel the crocodilian immortal closing her teeth on his flesh, taking his body as recompense for the shattered pact between them.

Saamal set his jaw and worked his body until his hands were over the pit. The effort it took exhausted him, but he forced himself to keep moving to fight against the lethargy the elixir of the sun had infused every fiber of his being. He let the blood slide from his fingertips down onto the rocks, willing the power in his blood to stir.

“I am here, Cipactli, and I have not forgotten our pact. I am working to bring back what is your due. Have patience.”

A roar unlike anything any reptilian throat ever made on earth echoed up through the pit, blasting Saamal with more heated breath and the foul odor of old blood. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold on as the earth surged up, rolling like the tail of a great monster until it snapped, flinging Saamal into the air like a ragdoll. He fell toward the pit, the gnashing rocks at the bottom filling his vision, and Adonis shouted from a few meters away where he fought against the wind, trying to get back to Saamal. The incubus let out an earth shaking roar and leapt to catch him, but the wind ripped at his wings, fighting him for every inch so that he hovered in the air, trapped. Saamal grabbed the edge of the earth as he hurtled into the pit, claws digging into the rocky soil as his lower body dangled limply into the abyss. Pain screamed through his joints as he held himself above the gaping maw below.

Adonis gave up trying to fly to him and dropped to the ground, flattening himself against the writhing earth as much as he could and clawing his way toward the pit. He flung out a hand and grasped Saamal by the wrist. Saamal struggled to raise his lower body as Adonis pulled him out, filling his mind with thoughts of Aiyana, of how she would remain trapped in the Dreamworld if he could not escape this fate. A weak, but much-needed tingle of energy fought to life inside him and he kicked at the edge of the shaft, climbing over the edge.

He was almost free of the pit when a sudden vice closed over his ankle with crushing force. Saamal screamed, agony shooting through his body like heated fire irons, stabbing him ruthlessly until his left leg dangled uselessly behind him. The pressure vanished and Adonis gathered him into his arms with one final, desperate heave. They both tumbled backward to the ground as the world around them began to quiet. The earth rumbled to a low growl, the land still shaking, but no longer pitching like a rolling sea. The briars trembled, but ceased their thrashing. The wind died down, as if it had never been, and Adonis immediately took advantage of the lull to throw himself into the air with a few beats of his enormous wings. He carried Saamal back to the window of Aiyana’s tower, warily circling around the brambles that had nearly snagged them on the way out.

The silence was deafening as they entered the castle again, the lingering turmoil outside mere background noise. Saamal groaned, feeling something wet and sticky on his left leg. He looked down as Adonis lowered him back onto the furs of his temporary bed and hissed as he found his left foot had been severed at the ankle—bitten off. Cipactli had claimed a piece of her retribution, no doubt the only reason the land had calmed as much as it had. Saamal gritted his teeth, hoping his pound of flesh had bought them enough time.

“What in the name of Fenris happened out there,” Etienne demanded, staring at the stump of what had been Saamal’s left foot.

“Cipactli is pissed.” Adonis shoved a black clawed hand through his wild hair. “And she’s not accepting any apologies. This is where my assistance with women ends, gentlemen.” He threw his hands in the air and started pacing the room. “You’re on your own with this female.”

Saamal ignored the tremble creeping over his body and the incubus’ nervous ranting. “Too far. It has gone too far. I’ve given up half my power, the sacrifices have been stopped—here and in the Dreamworld. The pact has been shattered and Cipactli will not be appeased until she is given her due.” He shifted his leg and looked around for something he could use to bandage it. He was too weak to heal such a wound quickly. It would be a miracle if he didn’t go through the rest of his existence as lame as the Greek god of the forge.

“And what is her due?” Etienne asked. He unfastened the belt at his waist then tugged it free. With sure, quick movements, he wrapped it around Saamal’s leg and began to tighten it into a tourniquet.

“Blood price,” Saamal answered, clenching his teeth as the pain in his ankle grew, pulsing with increasing intensity as the belt tightened. “She is owed a century of sacrifices, and she will take them now by whatever means she can. The pits you see will continue to grow, continue to open up all over the kingdom. She will eat her fill until she is satisfied.”

“We can’t let that happen.” Etienne growled, giving the belt one last jerk. 

Saamal let his chin fall to his chest for a moment, breathing through the pain. “I don’t have the power to stop her.”

“Then we’ll all help.” Etienne stalked over to the table near Aiyana’s bed and snatched up the pitcher of water and a clean towel. “Between the five of us—”

“Cipactli does not want power, Etienne,” Saamal ground out. “This is not Sanguenay. This is Mu, and ours is a kingdom forged in flesh and blood. The pact that was ours to honor has been broken. Cipactli is not asking for anything to which she is not entitled.”

“Then you’ll just let her eat whomever she wants?” Etienne gaped at him, the pitcher tilting precariously in his grasp. “Women, children?”

“No,” Saamal snapped. He tried to sit up, wincing at the violent tremors that tried to shake the flesh from his bones. “She is mollified, at least in part, for now. I must wake Aiyana and her family. The sacrifices must be reinstated.”

“You’ve been trying to wake Aiyana—we’ve all been trying to wake Aiyana. What do we know now that will help us wake her when up to this point we’ve failed?”

Saamal sucked in deep breaths as he managed to get to a sitting position, the exertion forcing a sweat to break out on his forehead. His skin was cold, clammy—a result of blood loss. He blinked, trying to focus on Adonis’ words. “Up until this point, there has been hope for me to save my kingdom. But now my people hover on the brink of death, the end of my world. There is only one option left to me.”

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Etienne muttered.

He knelt on the ground beside Saamal’s bed, eyeing the wound where Saamal’s left foot had been. He held the towel under the bloody stump and poured water gently over it. The water pitcher and cloth hung forgotten by his sides, the water spilling onto the floor in a growing puddle. Saamal pressed his lips into a thin line, tension singing in his hands as he gripped the bed, fighting the pain as the werewolf started cleaning the wound. Etienne was being as careful as he could, but the flesh was raw, the nerves exposed. Cipactli had not been gentle.

Adonis stepped closer to Saamal. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to give Aiyana the rest of my power. Perhaps if she had all of it, she could somehow free herself from Chumana’s curse.”

Saamal hesitated, an image of Aiyana’s smiling face lighting up his mind. He remembered her father’s words, spoken in the passion of a parent for the welfare of his child. The old man had been willing to sacrifice his kingdom for his daughter. Saamal’s heart ached and he closed his eyes. If only he could see her father now. He wanted to tell the old king he understood.

“Saamal, you can’t do that. If you give up the rest of your power, you’ll be mortal. You know as well as I do that this is not the time to make yourself helpless, and even with all of our help, you wouldn’t be safe from the enemies you’ve made.” Etienne scowled and stood, crossing his arms. “A terrible plan. Perhaps you need lessons from the vampire as well.”

“The werewolf is right,” Adonis agreed. “You can’t do that. There has to be another way.”

“I have to.” Saamal braced himself for the pain as he tried to sit up once again.

Adonis snorted. “I suppose I should have been more clear. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Yes, I am.” Saamal clenched his teeth. “I appreciate all you’ve done, but this is how it must end.” He shifted his legs to slide them off the bed.

Adonis put a hand on his chest. It was a simple gesture, and the demon didn’t press very hard, but a demon was no mortal. His strength was such that his hand may as well have been a stone monolith. Saamal couldn’t budge.

Anger rose like a serpent inside him, spitting fire and writhing in helpless fury. “You would hold me here while my people die?”

Adonis flinched and averted his eyes, but he didn’t move his hand. “Saamal, we will do everything in our power to protect your people. But I won’t let you make a decision you won’t even live to regret.”

“There is no other way!” Desperation joined his anger and Saamal wished he had energy to spare, anything he could afford to waste forcing the demon away from him.

“Are there wolves in your kingdom?” Etienne asked suddenly.

Saamal flicked his gaze from Adonis to Etienne. “Yes.”

Etienne nodded. “I can call wolves here. We will patrol the kingdom, try to keep your people from Cipactli’s pits.”

Adonis tensed, shooting Saamal a glare as if warning him not to move. He strode to where Etienne stood at the window. Etienne paused, arching an eyebrow at the demon, but Adonis motioned for him to continue. “Call them. I’m going to give you a little astral boost.”

Etienne narrowed his eyes as the demon put his hands on his shoulders, but he turned to the window. Tilting back his head, Etienne let a howl spill from his lips. The long, keening sound poured through the air like liquid moonlight, almost tangible as it echoed out into the chaotic sky. There was an eerie resonance to the howl, a reverberation that cast it out even farther until it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. After he’d finally closed his mouth again, Etienne shook his head.

“A strange feeling,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Adonis obligingly dropped his hands and stepped back. “Perhaps. But every wolf in the kingdom will have heard you, as well as a great deal from the surrounding kingdoms. That howl echoed on the astral plane. Part of a werewolf’s spirit can hear the astral plane. Every werewolf in the five kingdoms will have heard that howl, and if they’re inclined to help, they’ll be here.”

“I may be able to help you somewhat as well, Etienne,” Saamal spoke up, viciously ignoring the traitorous spark of hope that threatened his previous resolve for his death curse. Adonis frowned as he sat up, but Saamal ignored him and gestured for the werewolf to come closer. Etienne stepped up to his side and Saamal put a hand on his forehead. “Ocetotl.”

Etienne shivered and shook himself like a wolf ridding its fur of water. “What was that?” He blinked, his eyes flaring brighter gold as energy infused the air around him. Shadows rose to the surface of his skin, sprinkled over his neck, shoulders, and back like faint tattoos in the form of jaguar rosettes.

“I have given you the gift of speaking with jaguars.” Saamal eased himself back onto the bed as exhaustion penalized him for the energy expenditure. He decided against pointing out the physical manifestation of the ability, not certain Etienne would appreciate the spots. “My cats will listen to you as your wolves do now. Let them help you.”

Etienne started to leave through the main doorway, but Saamal called out to him.

“There is a secret passageway in the corner. If you take the path to the right, it will lead you out into the garden. The garden is the last lush place in the kingdom, it will be the safest.”

As Etienne vanished into the passageway, Adonis turned back to Saamal. “You need to get some of your power back. We can’t have you this weak. You’re the one tied to the land, our ability to help will be limited. Is there anything we can do to reenergize you?”

Saamal eased his head back. “Cipactli’s hunger is too great, anything that strengthens the land will go to her. There is nothing that will help me but rest.”

“Or Aiyana,” Adonis pointed out. “How did that go?”

The mention of his bride-to-be brought warmth to Saamal’s heart, a strange sensation given the unrest surrounding him. He smiled. “She agreed to marry me.”

Adonis’ eyes widened. “That’s it then. You can marry her on the astral plane and get your power back.”

Saamal shook his head. “Marrying her on the astral plane was my means of convincing Chumana that she has no cause to continue striving to be my wife. For the prophecy to come true, Aiyana must marry me on the physical plane, where we can stand on the earth and offer our blood to the land.”

“Is there anything you people do that doesn’t involve blood?” Adonis muttered.

Saamal ignored the sour note in his voice, still thinking of Aiyana. “She will be a great queen.”

“If we can wake her up,” Adonis insisted stubbornly. “Are you certain kiss of Death meant your kiss and not actual death?”

Rage surged through Saamal and he lunged off the bed, grabbing Adonis by the arm as he stumbled, his body trying to slump to the floor. The incubus bellowed in pain as Saamal’s claws pierced his flesh, holding him in a falcon’s grip. The stump of his left leg thudded against the floor and Saamal used the blistering agony that rushed through him to bolster his resolve. His body trembled, but he was able to get his right foot under him, helped by his merciless grip on Adonis’ arm.

“You will not lay a finger on her,” Saamal seethed, digging his claws in a little farther. “I will never hear you speak of her death again.”

Adonis opened eyes gone crimson with his own rage. Smoke curled out of his nostrils and when he spoke, his voice was muffled by the mouthful of jagged teeth. “I would never hurt Aiyana, you colossal fool.” His voice rasped against his vocal cords, an evil, sibilant sound. “Though I would point out that that is very likely something your future queen would do only too willingly if she thought it would save her people. But then, I suppose willing sacrifice is only for those people whose names you don’t know.”

Saamal jerked back, his claws sliding free of Adonis’ flesh. The demon didn’t break eye contact, didn’t even flinch as his skin began to close on its own. His wings rose and fell with his steady breaths as his glowing eyes continued to bore into Saamal’s.

“I know their names.” Saamal’s voice was low and he didn’t look away from Adonis’ fiery stare.

“But you didn’t care for them, didn’t love them,” the demon said evenly. “Their sacrifice was just duty to you, something honorable they did to honor Cipactli. Not the same when it’s someone you love, is it? Makes you wonder about the families of all those willing sacrifices.”

Saamal gaped at Adonis, taken aback by the venom in his voice, the steel in his resolve. “Where is the shameless incubus with a grin for every situation and a notable penchant for not taking anything seriously?”

Adonis crossed his arms, biceps bulging with the motion, making shadows dance across the red flush of his skin. “That’s all you see, isn’t it? I wasn’t born a prince, I don’t care about politics, I don’t brood over this curse or that. Have you truly not noticed that there is one thing I take very seriously?”

Sex was the first thing that came to Saamal’s mind, but he wisely kept his mouth shut, cautious about pushing the demon any farther. Adonis shook his head.

“Love. Romantic love, familial love, it doesn’t matter. Love is worth anything and everything and just because I’m smiling and enjoying it, doesn’t mean it’s not something I always take very, very seriously.”

“I love Aiyana.” The words came out on a breath, like a shared confession.

Adonis sighed, his wings drooping. He tilted his head, his ebony horns catching the torchlight. When he looked at Saamal again, the anger was gone from his eyes and a knowing resignation had taken its place. “Did you tell her?”

Chapter Nine

Aiyana stared dumbly at the spot where Saamal had been only moments ago. She could still feel the heat of his mouth on her lips, his breath against her face. “Marry me.” Her heart beat against her ribcage like a beast trying to escape. She’d agreed. She’d agreed to marry him and she’d been so happy. Then he’d…vanished. Tears burned her eyes, and Saamal’s face, twisted with pain, hovered before her eyes.

“Your Majesty, what’s happened?”

“Something went wrong.” She raised her eyes to find Okomi standing in front of her, gardening spade in one hand, dirt smudged on his cheek. The sight of the shaman tugged at her spirit, trying to get it to rise, but there was so much he didn’t know, so much she had to explain if she wanted his help. “Okomi, I don’t know where to begin…”

“I know about the curse,” Okomi said calmly. “And the Dreamworld. I am not truly a shaman, Your Majesty—I am a nahualli, a sorcerer who is blessed to be firmly connected with my animal spirit.” He gestured around him with his spade. “I can sense the magic of this place. The same way I have always sensed the magic in you.”

Aiyana closed her eyes as relief washed over her. “Thank the gods,” she breathed. She opened her eyes. “Okomi, the man I came here with this morning, Saamal, he is the Lord of Near and Nigh, the Black God. He had the ability to project himself here from the physical plane and return at will. He was here a moment ago, but something tore him away.” She clenched her hands into fists, claws aching to come out, to find who’d done this to her fiancé. “He was in pain. He has enemies, I have to—”

“You must seek out the fairy in the woods,” Okomi said firmly. “Only she has the power to affect your situation. Only she knows how to send you to Saamal.”

Aiyana hesitated. “Saamal thought going to her was too dangerous.” She turned pleading eyes to Okomi. “You’re a sorcerer, can’t you help?”

“I can only affect what is in the Dreamworld. Without being on the physical plane, my ability to affect anything beyond this realm are too limited to help you now. If you wish to see Saamal again, the fairy is your only hope. She bridges the gap between the Dreamworld and the physical plane, she can help you.”

Slowly, Aiyana nodded, walling her doubts behind a stone barrier of determination. “Very well. If she is the only one who can help me, then I must find her now. Thank you, Okomi.” She stood and prepared to leave, but paused. Glancing back over her shoulder, she met Okomi’s eyes. “You will watch out for my mother and father?”

“I always have.” The gardener gave a small bow and retreated to whatever corner of the garden he’d been tending. Aiyana took a deep breath and headed for the inside of the castle. She made her way to her room, careful to avoid running into her parents, and went directly to the secret passageway that would lead her out into the woods.

The thick canopy of trees blocked the sunlight as she ventured farther and farther into the wilderness. Shadows moved against the motion of the swaying leaves and meager light crawled over the grassy forest floor, adding an unnatural darkness to the shade. A sense of foreboding raised the hairs on the back of Aiyana’s neck. She let the jaguar spirit inside her bleed out, lending her its brave spirit and heightened senses. Fur rose to coat her skin and her eyesight sharpened, senses coming alive with scents she never would have noticed as a human. Vanilla beans scented the air with their sweetness, but even their heady perfume couldn’t dispel the growing unease in her stomach. The urge to run overcame her and she didn’t fight it. She gave in to the drive of the jaguar that pushed her to race through the trees as if she were in an open field with nothing in her way. Instinct carried her farther into the forest, smaller animals fleeing from her path as she practically flew over the land.

Saamal’s image hovered in her mind, his voice echoing in her ears. “Marry me.” A laugh trickled up her throat, a happy sound that urged her to run a little faster, chased back some of the fear.

“You don’t scare me, Saamal.” She spoke the words to the wind, imagining Saamal could hear her. The god may terrify some people, but she had seen his heart. Saamal only wanted what was best for his people, and he put his full passion behind ensuring that the best was exactly what they got. If his methods were crude and a little brutish then perhaps he just needed someone to help him think outside the sacrificial altar. “I will marry you,” Aiyana whispered.

The scent and sound of water rippling in the breeze trickled over her ears. Aiyana put on another burst of speed, careening into a shady glen holding a beautiful turquoise lake. The meager light that managed to pierce the canopy of trees danced over the waters in brilliant spots of gold, making the surface shimmer like a bed of diamonds. It was as if the water hoarded the sunlight, magnified it until the water glowed with far more light than it should have in the darkness of the deep forest. Like magic.

Aiyana stepped up to the lake, chest heaving as she fought to regain her breath. Magic rippled off the surface, rolling into the air like delicate mist. The sizzling energy made her fur stand on end and she fought the urge to take a step back. She inspected the lake then focused her attention on the trees surrounding it. The fairies could live anywhere, underwater, in the trees, underground. She would never find her by searching. She had to convince the fairy to show herself.

“I am Aiyana, princess of Mu. I am here on behalf of the Lord of Near and Nigh.”

Nothing. Not a leaf moved, not a splash of water disturbed the rolling ripples of the lake. Aiyana sat down on the bank, nerves singing with tension. She took a deep breath and tried to center herself, forcing herself to project confidence and calm.

“I’ve come for help,” she said, her voice firm and clear. “Okomi, nahualli and close friend of mine, sent me here.”

A bubble gurgled up out of the lake. Aiyana’s heart leapt in her chest and she leaned closer to peer down into the watery depths. “Is anyone there?”

For a second, she could have sworn she heard a voice. A whisper, too low for her to quite make the words out. Something moved in the lake, a form that glittered with all the colors of the rainbow. Aiyana leaned a little closer.
            “Is anyone there? Please, I’ve come for your help.” She peered into the water, focusing, trying to make out what that colorful form had been. There. Movement again…

Something exploded upward. A form broke the surface of the water amid a rain of cascading water droplets, each one shimmering with light that it shouldn’t have held. Aiyana’s eyes flew open as she found herself face to face with slitted yellow reptilian eyes set in a face covered with multicolored scales. A pink serpentine tongue flicked out, drawing Aiyana’s attention long enough for the creature’s sinewy arms to reach out for her. Clawed hands closed around her biceps and Aiyana barely had time to scream before she was pulled under the water.

Bubbles erupted around her face, tickling her skin as the serpent lashed its tail, carrying Aiyana down into the dark depths of the lake. The magical glow that the surface held vanished as they moved deeper, a thick inky blackness closing around them like a thick curtain. Aiyana’s chest burned with the need to breathe and adrenaline sizzled through her blood, creating starbursts behind her eyes. She groped for the serpent’s arms, trying to get her own claws in its flesh, but she only grazed its scales, her claws sliding helplessly off of them. The serpent paid her attempts to injure it no mind as it continued to swim down.

Pressure grew around Aiyana, closing like a fist around her body. Darkness ate at her vision. Just when she was certain she would lose consciousness, the last of her air leaving her in a weak trail of tiny bubbles, the serpent slithered through a hole in some sort of hulking mass at the bottom of the lake. A second later, they broke the surface and cool air rushed to meet Aiyana’s flushed cheeks.

She gasped, choking on the bitter water she’d swallowed and fighting to breathe through her panic. The water was freezing, numbing her skin and making her movements sluggish. The serpent dragged her onto a rocky ledge and released her, leaving her writhing about on some sort of slick stone in pitch blackness. Scales grated over the stone next to her as the serpent slithered past. A few moments later, warm crimson light lit the area, chasing back the darkness and casting long shadows over the water. Aiyana blinked and raised her attention to the source of the light.

A fireplace set into the far wall was filled with brilliant crystals, glittering with reds, oranges, and yellows to put any fire to shame. The light radiated out like a sunrise, bathing the strange room in a warm glow. The domed ceiling was high and worn smooth by the kiss of water, perhaps suggesting this cavern had once been completely submerged. Aiyana hovered on a ledge that jutted out into black water that ran from the left side of the cavern to the right. On the side of the water opposite the fireplace, there was only a stone wall, as sleek as the ceiling. The area in front of Aiyana was not terribly large, just a sizeable shelf of rock. The fireplace carved into the far wall was the only thing that suggested this was anything more than an underwater cave.

The serpent slithered over to the fire, its upper body with its long arms held off the ground by powerful muscles. She faced Aiyana and drew herself up to her full height. The scales receded in a sudden rushing, hissing wave. Human flesh appeared, the palest copper Aiyana had ever scene. Her dark hair fell like a sheet of liquid obsidian to her waist. The warm glow of the crystal fireplace only made the icy spark in her eyes seem all the more cold and calculating. Pale coral lips curled into an ugly sneer.

“So, you are Aiyana.” The former serpent crossed her arms over her small, firm breasts, eyeing Aiyana like an insect that had crawled onto her dinner table. “How…pathetic. In a Dreamworld with all this magic, surely you could have found some way to make yourself appear less like a drowned cat?”

Aiyana gritted her teeth, the fur on the back of her neck rising as she fought not to glare at her captor. She had to reign in her temper and not let the woman’s barbs get the better of her. Insulting beast or no, Aiyana needed help. If this was the fairy Okomi has spoken of, she was Aiyana’s only hope. “I am Aiyana, Princess of Mu.” Her voice was hoarse from the torment her lungs had been put through. “Are you the fairy of the lake?”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “No. I am Chumana, the Spring Maiden—bride to be of the Lord of Near and Nigh—the Black God.”

“What?” The word was out of her mouth before Aiyana could stop it. Chumana’s smirk broadened and anger rushed like boiling water through Aiyana’s veins and she narrowed her eyes at the shapeshifter. “I find that hard to believe—since the Black God proposed to me not an hour ago.”

Chumana’s eyes glittered like ice. “Are you certain you weren’t…dreaming?”

Aiyana’s blood ran cold. This was the woman Tenoch had referenced—Saamal’s former lover. The one who had cursed her. “You.” She bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to call the woman a liar, to tell her exactly how little Saamal thought of her. She was half in the water—far under the water—with a woman who could turn herself into a serpent. The advantage was Chumana’s, now was not the time to make her move.

Chumana seemed to interpret her silence as resignation. “Ah, so you finally understand then.” Chumana stepped closer to Aiyana, bare feet silent on the wet stone. “The Black God is mine, little one. He’s always been mine, since the day he stole me away from my former husband. The land is suffering because he has tied himself to a weakling such as yourself, but I will save him from that false prophecy. After you’re dead, he will come back to me and I will lead him into battles the likes of which he has never dreamed of. Blood will rain down on the land and quench even that monstrous Cipactli’s thirst.”

 “If you care so much for the land, why did you stop the sacrifices?” Aiyana demanded, ignoring the way that even now her stomach rolled at the thought of human sacrifice—willing or no. “You aren’t trapped in the Dreamworld, you must see how the land is suffering.”

“Unfortunately, it was necessary to teach my love a lesson.” Chumana sighed. “Death was always so distracted, so obsessed with his little people, his precious land. His mind wandered from where it should be. Some men need to fall terribly far before they realize how much they need a woman in their life.”

Aiyana dug her nails into her palms, but couldn’t hold back the barb that flew to her tongue. “You mean he would have to be desperate to want you.”

“He is desperate for me!” Chumana snarled. “I was married to Tlaloc, god of storms, and Death wanted me so badly he kidnapped me, stole me away from my powerful husband. That is not a risk one takes if one is not desperate to have someone.”

“But he didn’t marry you,” Aiyana guessed.

Chumana’s eyes flashed and the air around them crackled with the force of her ire, her power rolling off of her like a thick fur rug. “You little wretch. You know nothing of our world, of what it is to be a god. Before that damned prophecy turned his head—not because of you, mind, but because he thought marriage to you would bring him power—he and I ruled this miserable kingdom. There was nothing we couldn’t have, nothing we couldn’t do. He knew how to laugh then, how to have fun.”

A faraway look came into her eyes. “Death was a true god then. He was a strong, fierce god and he demanded the same from his people. Our men were warriors back then. Death used to wait at crossroads, challenge young men to fight, to test their skill. If they failed, they died there on the road, their blood seeping into the ground. All in the kingdom knew the importance of strength, and they worked hard to be worthy of Death. We would lead the people into war, urge them to glorious heights worthy of song.”

As Chumana grew more and more absorbed with her rant, Aiyana eased her body out of the water, using her claws to give her whatever purchase she could find on the slippery rock. Her body shivered with the cold and she ached to rid her fur of the water that clung to it in icy drops. She scanned the room, searching for something—anything—she could use to her advantage. Nothing presented itself. Just the polished stone of the walls and the crystals flickering in the fireplace.

The Spring Maiden started pacing, quick agitated movements. “You ruined it all. Without his strength, his enemies were too powerful for him to be the same brazen man I knew. He forgot about training warriors, forgot about making love, forgot about everything except the miserable maiden lying in a tower! The land has grown weak and miserable without him and it is all your fault!” She sneered. “He’s been sulking for the last century, moaning and groaning about how terrified the people are of him. He’s lived among them so long now that he’s started to believe he’s one of them—he’s forgotten he’s a god!” She whirled around to glare at Aiyana. “Who cares if they’re terrified? We support them, we give them land, we fight their enemies. I will not grovel on the ground and beg for their good will. I don’t want it!”

 “Good will is not given, it is earned.” Aiyana shoved herself to her feet and met Chumana’s eyes, itching to rake her claws across the woman’s arrogant mouth. “Saamal cares about his people, wants what’s best for them. He hasn’t always made the best choices, but for better or worse, he did it for his people—not for the sheer pleasure of seeing their blood flow!”

Chumana ran a hand down her neck, trailing her fingers down to the curve of one breast. “When he first stole me from my husband, I was frightened. The Black God—Death—had dragged me to his bed by force. He told me our union would bring us both power, would strengthen the land. Two earth deities…” The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smile. “He was very convincing. And he was right. The power I’ve gained since then is more than I ever could have imagined. That serpent form you saw, that is a gift from the power he gave me, a result of the combination of our energy. I am more than just the Spring Maiden now.” She met Aiyana’s eyes. “So you see, little human. You do not know him as I do.”

It was Aiyana’s turn to smirk, and she put all the disdain she could manage into the expression. She called on everything she’d ever learned as a princess, drew herself up with all the poise that came from ruling. It was easy to look down her nose at Chumana, letting her scorn show in her eyes. “You used to know him. Back when he wanted to know you, back when he wanted anything to do with you. I have part of his spirit inside me, I have seen into his mind. And I know the prophecy.” Inspiration struck and Aiyana followed the thread out loud, keeping her voice strong and sure. “The prophecy said that I would bring him power and then I would lead him away from the bloody path he’d followed. And that’s the key, isn’t it? As long as he was on the path he used to travel with you, he didn’t yet deserve more power.” She straightened her shoulders. “But he does now. And I’ll do everything I can to see that he gets it.”

Chumana rubbed her temples. “I tire of you, little human. You cannot see what is so clearly right in front of you. I am meant to be with Death, not you.” She dropped her hands to her sides, throwing her shoulders back and fixing Aiyana with an icy stare. “You will die, here, tonight. And after you’re dead, I will lead Death back to his true path, and I will walk it with him, as I was meant to do.”

She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. The stone beside her moved, a doorway appearing where once there had been only unbroken, solid rock. Pink and blue light streamed through the opening from a hidden room beyond, and a hunched figure emerged. It was impossible to guess the stranger’s height, given his stooped posture, and their body was obscured by the voluminous folds of the cloak. Two legs stuck out the bottom of the material, the only sign that whoever it was appeared humanoid in shape.

“Yes, My Lady?” the cloaked newcomer rasped.

“I’m leaving. See that this kitten is skinned and cooked. I will eat her tonight after I return.” Chumana tilted her head, tapping her chin with one slender finger. “And use that sauce Robert that you make so well,” she added, smiling sweetly at Aiyana.

Before Aiyana could respond, Chumana held up her arms. Scales fell down her body like a rain of shiny beetles, coating her in the skin of her serpent form. Her black hair was flat against her body, the scales covering the ebony locks, pressing them against her body so that her final form was sleek and hairless. With a vicious flick of her tail, the goddess slid over the floor and vanished into the water with hardly a splash.

Aiyana quickly turned to the cook, determined to fight. If she could defeat this servant, perhaps she could swim out of here. It was her only chance, the only way she could get back to land. If she could make it back, perhaps she could find Tenoch. The ghost might be able to get a message to Saamal. Tightening her resolve, Aiyana bared her teeth and prepared to leap at the stranger.

The hood of the cloak fell back as the figure straightened, revealing a familiar face. The old man held up his hands and more blue and pink energy flickered to life in his palms, lighting up his features and confirming his identity. Aiyana’s jaw dropped.

“Okomi?”

The gardener’s brown eyes were warm and dancing with the reflection of the light in his hands. “Yes. My animal spirit saw Chumana pull you into the lake and notified me immediately. I came as quickly as I could.”

“How did you get down here?” Aiyana asked, a tiny sliver of suspicion keeping her from giving herself completely over to relief.

“Although I am unfortunately not able to manipulate the physical realm from here, it is a simple matter to manipulate the Dreamworld. My animal spirit was able to give me a detailed account of where the serpent had taken you. It was merely a matter of willing myself into a similar form to get down to her sanctuary. I found a room at the back of the cavern and discovered a human cook. He is a prisoner here, and after I explained to him that you had been taken, he knew immediately that the serpent would insist that he cook you for her dinner. In exchange for helping him escape, he readily agreed to help me disguise myself so that I might help you.” He held out his hands, offering her the magic in his grasp. “There is no time to lose. Here. Touch your face to the light. It will let you breathe underwater until you reach the surface.”

“But I don’t understand. Is Chumana the fairy you sent me to see? What about Saamal, how am I to get him back now?”

Okomi smiled. “Too many questions and not enough time. Take the power, Your Majesty, and go. All will be clear very soon.”

Despite the nagging desire to understand everything that had happened, Okomi’s sense of urgency rekindled her own. Her heart beat faster as she imagined Chumana reaching Saamal first, what Saamal might do if he believed she was dead. Aiyana leaned down and did as Okomi told her, breathing in the crackling energy in his hands. It was like inhaling the sweet, sharp aroma of a eucalyptus, cool and refreshing. The energy reached down inside her and filled her lungs so fully, so completely, that she felt as if she’d never before taken a true breath.

Okomi nodded at her and she leapt into the black water. The cold seized her for a moment, stinging her skin, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on. Her jaguar eyes were little better than human this far underwater, but she could make out the barest hint of light. She swam until she found the hole in the cavern that Chumana had brought her through. All the while she swam, Aiyana couldn’t help but imagine more serpent people, their bodies lashing through the water, their almost-human hands reaching for her, snagging her hair and her legs and dragging her back to the bottom of the lake. Fear ached in her heart and the warmth of tears welled in her eyes before being washed away by the freezing water all around her. She didn’t stop swimming until her face broke the surface of the lake.

The spell inflating her lungs dissipated, leaving Aiyana momentarily gasping and clutching her chest. The withering sensation passed and she closed her eyes as she was finally able to take a normal breath of air. A stick broke to her left and her muscles seized, nearly sending her underwater. Lowering herself as far as she could without submerging her nose, she scanned the land around the lake quickly, making certain Chumana was not standing there waiting for her. She found no sign of the Spring Maiden, nor any other apparent threat. Gathering her determination, Aiyana swam as fast as she could for shore.

Her pulse thudded so hard in her throat she nearly gagged, her mind torturing her with images of the serpent woman rearing up out of the water and dragging her back down into the dark depths. The fur on her back stuck out painfully, every nerve in her body tensed in preparation to fight off an attack. By the time she pulled herself back onto land, her entire body was trembling.

“Flower goddess my furry tail,” she ground out, digging her claws into the grass and imagining it was Chumana’s neck. She grunted as she hauled herself out of the lake, scrambling onto dry land. “Little human. Pathetic.” Her fear receded like last year’s snowfall and rage took its place, swirling inside her like a summer storm. The sun streamed down on her, lighting up the world and chasing away the memories of the darkness under the water. Her courage grew under the warm rays and she glared up at the sky as if she could see Saamal. “I can’t believe you ever had anything to do with that…woman!” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. She couldn’t get Chumana’s voice out of her mind, couldn’t wipe away that insipid smile on the Spring Maiden’s face as she’d talked about being kidnapped by the Black God. She crushed her own thoughts before they could torment her with thoughts of Saamal with Chumana, his hands on her body, his mouth…

Aiyana grabbed her hair in her hands, pulling sharply to tear her mind from her own foul imaginings. That was the past, it was all in the past. Thinking of it now would serve no one, it would only please Chumana to know she’d gotten to her. Aiyana gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t give that miserable snake the satisfaction.

She sprang to her feet, viciously swiping at the dirt on her clothes. Her skirt was heavy enough to give the impression it was carved from stone, waterlogged and caked with mud as it was. Every bead that had shone so beautifully when she’d made it was now clogged with earth. She’d lost her cloak at some point, most likely during her impromptu swim. She was in no state to present herself to her future husband—a god.

“Oh, let him see me like this,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “It’s his fault I’m in this state to begin with. Let him see the consequences of his poor taste in ex-lovers.” Pausing, she lifted her head. “I’m talking to myself.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, wringing out the water she could. “I suppose that’s a bad sign—talking to one’s self.”

“I’m listening too.”

The voice came from directly behind her. Aiyana whirled around, her heart in her throat, her claws extended and ready to tear to shreds whoever had dared to sneak up on her. “You!”

Tenoch’s eyes widened and he stilled, hovering beside her like a deer cornered by ravenous wolves. “What? What did I do?”

“Did you know about Chumana?” Aiyana demanded, the question coming from out of nowhere. She furrowed her eyebrows, but didn’t take her gaze off Tenoch. “Well?”

The ghost eyed her like she’d grown a second head. “The Flower Maiden? Of course I know of her. I assume you’re referring to her time as the Black God’s consort?”

“Don’t speak to me about that.” Irritation sharpened her voice to a fine point. “I know all about it, and I don’t want to hear anymore. Believe me, when I see Saamal again, I’ll—” Her earlier plan flew back to her mind and she tried to grab him by the shoulders before she remembered his incorporeity. Tenoch quirked an eyebrow at her, but she ignored him. “Can you travel to the physical plane?”

The ghost leaned back, eyeing her warily. “Yes. But I can’t take you if that’s what you mean.”

“No, but I need to you go to the physical plane and find out what happened to Saamal, then come back here and tell me.”

The ghost crossed his arms. “You’re still intent on—”

Aiyana screamed her frustration to the sky, the high piercing cry of a jaguar. The ghost’s eyes bulged and he held up his hands.

“Okay, okay,” he said hastily. “I’m going.” He turned and a moment before he disappeared, muttered, “You two are a perfect match.”

Chapter Ten

“There has to be a god you haven’t pissed off. Someone who would put aside the bickering in the spirit of helping the people?”

Saamal rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, Adonis. As I have tried to explain to you, this is the time of the Fifth Sun. It is my rule, I am responsible for this land and this people.”

Adonis scowled. “So the others would just let them die.”

“Yes. And after they die, the next deity with the power to create will step up and start over.”

“This is insane.” Adonis stared at him, red eyes like banked coals. “How can you be so accepting?”

Anger sparked in Saamal and he sat up, shocked and pleased when the room only spun slightly and his muscles were once again obeying his commands. “I do not accept it, Adonis. This was supposed to be the final sun, the final world. Nothing in my mirrors told me that this world would end.”

“So maybe it won’t!” Adonis waved the heavy text in his hand at Saamal, one of the more complete compilations of Mu’s history that Kirill had left for him when he’d returned to Dacia to sleep. “What about your brother the Feathered Serpent?”

Saamal looked away, concentrating on flexing the muscles in his hands, improving his circulation. “During his reign in the time of the Second Sun, my brother was making a fool of himself, letting the people grow weak and complacent.”

Adonis closed his eyes, letting the book sag in his grip. “And you…”

“Plied him with alcohol until he became a drunken fool and…made some foolish choices. He exiled himself in shame and that ended the time of the Second Sun.”

Memories of that particular episode held a certain shame now that they never had before. His brother had always been a little timid, a little too concerned with the methods to ever get a proper end result. Saamal had merely wanted to make his weaknesses a little more apparent, wanted others to see what he saw. Now that he looked back, he wondered if maybe his brother hadn’t had something to teach him. If perhaps he’d judged him too quickly. He shoved those thoughts away. They would do him no good right now.

Adonis shook his head and returned his attention to the book. He flipped through a few pages and Saamal noted with amusement that Kirill’s severe handwriting decorated the margins.

“What about Tlaloc? God of storms, he could be helpful.”

Saamal cleared his throat. “Chumana was his wife.”

The book slammed closed and Saamal’s eyebrows shot up. Adonis whirled around and stalked across the room to flop down into the overstuffed chair beside the fireplace.

“I know every kingdom has its quirks,” Adonis muttered, “but this is ridiculous.”

“Indeed it is. So why don’t we forget this whole mess and do what we should have done in the first place?” a feminine voice asked.

The sound of Chumana’s voice made Saamal’s blood run cold. He jerked his head around to face her, anger rushing through him in a welcome surge of adrenaline. He barely remembered his weakened state in time to keep from leaping from the bed and risking humiliation in front of his enemy. “How did you get in here?” he demanded, letting his disdain show on his face and in his voice. He remembered the option of using his death curse on the Spring Maiden and let the threat of it fill his eyes, though he didn’t speak it out loud.

Chumana smiled. “Now, now, is that any way to greet your future bride?” She swept into the room, her blood red dress flowing behind her like a tide of blood, rubies rustling against one another in intricate patterns woven into the train. “I came in the front door, as any lady does. It seems your precious jaguars are otherwise occupied, and the briars that were so terribly unwelcoming in years past have…died.”

Saamal kept his face impassive, trying not to betray his dread as Chumana’s power filled the air, pressing against him like an obnoxious cloud of perfume. He couldn’t stand, couldn’t risk falling to his knees in front of his former lover. His body was recovering, but he was far from full strength. Anger simmered inside him as her dark gaze flickered over his body, far more familiar than she had any right to be after all she’d done. Her eyes traveled over the bed, pausing on the space where his feet were—or would have been if he’d still had two. She tilted her head and Saamal fought not to flinch, afraid to move lest she realize the lumps under the blankets were not the shape they should be…

Before Chumana could open her mouth to give voice to the growing suspicion in her eyes, Adonis stood up from his chair. He snapped his wings out to the sides, the sharp crack of leather jerking the goddess’ head toward him, her eyes widening slightly. Saamal observed with hesitant interest as Adonis drew himself up to his full height, raising his wings in a gesture Saamal now recognized as an attempt to intimidate.

“Is this the beauty you promised me?” Adonis’ voice came out low, raspy, the voice of a demon calling from between the bed sheets. He flexed his clawed hands, tilting his head to the side so the firelight from the wall scones played over the sharp ebony points of his horns. His eyes were alight with demonic fire and his skin was flushed a shade of crimson that darkened with every passing second. He smiled at Chumana, baring his sharp teeth.

Saamal opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for what to say and not wanting to give away Adonis’ game—whatever it might be. Adonis ignored him anyway, the full weight of his gaze boring down on Chumana.

“You are the Flower Maiden, are you not?”

“I am,” Chumana answered finally, her eyes locked on Adonis, wariness in the way she held her body, as if ready to run at a moment’s notice. For all the nervous tension in her body, her voice remained steady.

“Would you like to be deflowered?” Adonis flashed his teeth, dragging his gaze up and down the goddess’ body in an obvious assessment. “An incubus could do such sweet damage between thighs such as yours.” He flexed his hands again, taking a small step in her direction.

Chumana’s lips parted and she took a step back, a flicker of fear flashing through her eyes before she managed to fix her face into a goddess’ mask of indifference. “Who are—?”

Suddenly her attention landed on Aiyana’s body across the room. Whatever demand she’d been about to make of Adonis died. Her green eyes glittered as she studied Aiyana’s body, her gaze as sharp as a falcon’s.

“She’s not dead,” Saamal snapped, unable to hold the words back as his anger fought to get the better of him. The stump at the end of his left leg throbbed as he shifted underneath the blanket, fighting the urge to slide off the bed and lunge for the Spring Maiden. “

“I can see that,” Chumana murmured. She frowned. “But why?”

Something about the confused look on her face grated against Saamal’s skin. Adonis took a step closer to Chumana, but the goddess ignored him this time.

“You are not welcome here, Chumana,” Saamal seethed, not liking the way the goddess was staring at Aiyana. “Leave now.”

“We both know you have no power to force me out, Saamal.”

Saamal stiffened. He’d chosen that name after losing half his power, after he’d ceased spending time with Chumana. It was a name he went by among those who had never known him in his other form, a name he used among his people now that he was no longer ruling over them as their all-powerful deity. Chumana had no reason to know that name unless…

He tore his gaze from his ex-lover and stared at Aiyana, studying her chest for the telltale signs of breathing. He weakened with relief when her chest rose and fell with the same slow, smooth rhythm it had since the curse had taken her.

Chumana gritted her teeth, the muscles in her jaw tensing. “Yes, she’s alive…for now.”

Saamal growled as he faced Chumana. “Get out.”

“Or you’ll what?” Chumana demanded, her eyes sparking. “I know about your trips to the Dreamworld, my love. I know you’ve been there more than once, and I know you would have had to drink the elixir of the sun to get there. You don’t have the power to recover from such an experience quickly. Why it wouldn’t surprise me at all if you were incapable of getting out of that bed!”

Saamal wiped the emotion from his face, reining in his temper. The goddess was right, he didn’t have the power to expel her. He met his former lover’s eyes, searching them for some sign of humanity, some sign that she could be reasoned with. “It’s over, Chumana. There is nothing left for you here. Even if you managed to remove Aiyana from the picture, I would not return to you. Our time together is past.”

“I will not be cast aside!” Chumana shrieked, green fire flaring to life in her eyes. Her pupils thinned to reptilian slits. “Have you forgotten all the pretty words you had for me when you stole me from my husband?”

Saamal exhaled slowly through his nose. “I thought that our union would bring more power to the land. I was only trying to do what was best for my people. I’m sorry I—”

“No!” Chumana’s eyes blazed with her ire and she pointed a trembling finger at Saamal. “No, you will not do this. I am not a means to an end, oh mighty Lord of Near and Nigh. I will not be cast aside so easily. You whispered your sweet promises in my ear, and by the oak you will keep those promises.” She straightened her spine, brushing her hands down her snug red dress. “I have Aiyana, Saamal. I visited the Dreamworld too. Agree to our marriage—a marriage that includes our blood bond to the earth—and I will make her death painless.”

Saamal went perfectly still, a deadly calm coming over him even as rage crashed over him like a storm-tossed wave. The skin on his face grew tight, pinched, and he slowly pressed his fingers into the bed, claws slipping free to pierce the downy cushion. Fur sprouted along his skin, rushing over him in a comforting surge of energy and he parted his lips enough to flash sharp white fangs. Chumana’s mask of triumph wavered only slightly.

“You won’t kill me, Death. If Aiyana dies, I am your only hope for reviving the land you treasure so dearly.”

Her words fell away from him, ignored for the meaningless prattle they were. She’d gone too far, threatened too much. Saamal took a deep, slow breath, reaching down inside himself, searching for more power, more energy. He would wipe that smirk off her face and then he would find Aiyana—

“Aiyana is fine.”

Saamal fell back, shocked as Tenoch appeared in front of him, his ghostly form appearing even more translucent in the light of the torches. The feathers in his headdress wavered in the breeze from the window, a faint echo of the gusts outside. He crossed his arms, facing Saamal with an expression that stated very clearly he didn’t want to be here.

“She’s fine?” Saamal echoed, hope rising.

The ghost nodded. “She asked me to come and see you. To tell you your former lover,” he shot a dirty look over his shoulder at Chumana, “failed in her assassination attempt.”

Relief dragged Saamal’s shoulders down and he didn’t bother to hide it from Chumana. Quite the contrary, he couldn’t help meeting her eyes and giving her a satisfied smirk.

“You have been misinformed about Aiyana’s state of imprisonment,” he told her lightly. “My true future bride is alive and free.”

Chumana cursed, glaring daggers at Tenoch. “You miserable interfering apparition,” she snarled. “I’ll make you pay for your insolence.”

Tenoch snorted. “How?”

With a scream of frustration, Chumana swept out of the room, her hair whipping behind her like an angry flag. Across the room, Adonis took a step toward the door, then hesitated.

“Do you want me to follow her?” he asked. “Make sure she leaves?”

Saamal shook his head rapidly. “No, no, there’s no point. If she wanted back in she could come back, there’s little we could do to stop her now. What I need is for you to bring me more of that elixir. I have to get back to Aiyana.”

Adonis gaped at him, lips parted in shock, eyes wide. “I can’t do that. Saamal, you’re only barely recovering now—you could have died last time. You may be a god, but messing with travel back and forth from the astral plane is a bad idea. Even you may not survive it if your spirit is permanently separated from your body. If you try to go back again this soon, you may not wake up.”

“Adonis, Chumana knows where Aiyana is, she already got to her once. I have to go back and protect her!”

“If Aiyana is as strong as you say she is, then she will be fine,” Adonis said calmly, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. “Have a little faith.”

Saamal’s stomach rolled. “I didn’t tell her about Chumana. Of all the sins I shared with her, I didn’t discuss that one.”

“Well, if the precious Flower Maiden is telling the truth, and she did get to Aiyana once, then I’m sure she knows now,” Adonis pointed out. He paused. “Friendly word of warning, by the way. You’re going to pay for not telling her.”

“Oh, yes,” Tenoch confirmed, a cruel smile twitching on his lips. “Yes, he will.”

Unease wormed through Saamal’s stomach at the wicked pleasure on the ghost’s face, but before he could press Tenoch for details, a monstrous roar echoed outside. The sound seemed to vibrate the very stone of the castle, grating over the rock as if it would send the palace tumbling into rubble. The blood drained from Saamal’s face and he slowly turned to the window.

Adonis was already there, his wingspan blocking most of what lay beyond from Saamal’s view.

“Oh, my,” he muttered.

Saamal gritted his teeth and eased himself off the bed, grateful when his right leg supported him. He took his sword from where it lay on the bed, still in its scabbard, and ignored the blow to his pride as he used the weapon for a crutch. Slowly, painfully, he limped his way to the window and the incubus that stood frozen staring out.

“Apparently Chumana is calling in reinforcements,” Adonis mumbled.

Saamal’s blood ran cold as he looked across the land and saw his worst nightmare coming true. Monstrous shadows approached the castle, varying in size, but united in the sickening throb of evil that emanated from their combined presence. Creatures he had avoided since his reduction in power converged on the castle in a grisly coup, their wild screams and roars announcing the castle’s impending doom.

Thin ghostly shapes covered in white fur flickered between the trees like apparitions, their haunted, glowing amber eyes appearing between the tree trunks like hovering fireflies. They moved with shambling steps, but the restrained power that vibrated from their beings made it clear that once their prey was in range, they would move as gracefully as wraiths in the darkness. Wendigos.

A frightening shape rose up sharply from the canopy of trees, thrusting up at the sky as if one of the towering mahogany trees had been uprooted. The moon provided a glowing backdrop for the massive horned head as it opened its mouth and bared two shining curved fangs. Its slitted eyes glowed fiery orange as it scanned the earth and then focused on the castle ahead. Its heavy reptilian coils crushed the trees in its path as the giant serpent slithered closer. Uktena.

A vicious wind whipped through the leaves amidst a cacophony of blood curling screeches. Saamal held his breath as a cloud of what looked like bats erupted from the forest and darkened the early evening sky, threatening to block out the moon itself. As he focused on them, he could see that they weren’t bats, but rather severed heads with wings sprouting from their temples. He knew their mouths were full of sharp, bloodstained yellow teeth, eyes drowning in their endless hunger, a thirst for blood that could never be quenched. Kanontsistonties.

“So these are your enemies?” Adonis breathed.

“Some of them.” Saamal gripped the windowsill, closing his eyes against the despair threatening to overwhelm him. The gods weren’t there, none of his deified brethren. So far it was only the monsters, the creatures that curdled men’s blood and reminded the living of how terrifying things could get if they strayed from the path. But if Chumana was angry enough, if she could convince the other gods… He barked out a laugh, a dry humorless sound. Who was he kidding? In his current state, the monsters would be enough. Chumana had no need to make any deals with deities.

“Do you still have that vial of Kirill’s blood?” Adonis asked suddenly.

Saamal nodded, his eyes still on the dangers moving ever closer to the castle.

“Get it.”

“Summoning the vampire will do no good, Adonis. Even the vampire cannot fight all the monsters of my kingdom.” Quiet desperation built inside him, rising like the water of a flooding river. Not even his death curse could save Aiyana now, not if those monsters got into the castle. He didn’t have the power to get her out in time. But perhaps Adonis could…

The scent of blood trickled past his nose and he turned to find Adonis spilling the vial of Kirill’s blood onto the bedroom floor. “How did you find that so quickly?”

Adonis knelt and put a hand in the blood. “Kirill of Dacia, I summon you. By blood I call you.” He glanced up at Saamal, his eyes full of glowing scarlet flecks. “I can see auras as they reflect on the astral plane. I’m familiar with the aura of Kirill’s blood, and since this is where you spend all your time, I knew the vial would be in here.”

“It won’t do any good. Even with all of Kirill’s connections, he won’t be able to gather the numbers we would need to fight the demons of my entire kingdom.”

“My allies have signed agreements to aid me in battle,” a cool voice said.

Saamal whirled to find Kirill standing in front of the mirror. The gargoyle guardian of passages peered at him, stony eyes unblinking from the top of the mirror. The surface of the polished glass still sparkled with lingering magic. The vampire’s face was smooth and emotionless, nearly as empty as the gargoyle’s.

“Unfortunately, I cannot summon them to help fight a battle against enemies other than my own,” Kirill finished.

He strode to the window, black cloak flowing behind him. One slender, long-fingered hand grasped the window ledge as he looked out, the other, as always, tucked away in his cloak. Saamal didn’t fail to notice that the vampire kept Adonis between them as the incubus joined them at the window. Apparently his attack from the previous night was not forgotten. His gratitude for the vampire’s presence despite the misunderstanding between them was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that Kirill would likely not be here at all if he didn’t believe Saamal was necessary to his future plans. Regardless, Saamal felt a tinge of hope as the vampire’s crystal blue eyes flicked from one enemy to the next.

“Wendigos, Uktena, kanontsistonties.” Kirill squinted at something in the distance. “Is that the Death Bat?”

Saamal hissed in dismay and looked into the distance, hoping he wouldn’t see what Kirill thought he saw. A shape hovered in the sky, almost too far away to make out. It was larger than the kanontsistonties, not merely a head, but a man’s body with giant wings not unlike Adonis’. Dread rose like bile in Saamal’s throat. Camazotz. “Yes, it is him.” Saamal shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories that came to his mind at the mere thought of the Death Bat’s name. “I should have known he would not pass up a chance to see my time ended. Chumana would not even have needed to promise him anything. He has wanted to see me suffer for far too long.”

Kirill’s eyes glowed red. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

Saamal whirled in surprise to find Patricio stepping through the mirror, his features wrinkling in annoyance as he tried to maneuver his impressive wingspan through the rather thin confines of the mirror’s frame. White feathers drifted to the stone floor and the seven-foot angel scowled.

“Have you ever desired to fight the Death Bat?” Kirill asked him, his tone the sort that most men would use to ask if you’d ever vacationed on the islands off of Sanguenay.

Patricio paused in the middle of stretching his right wing, cerulean eyes narrowing. “Death Bat?”

“Camazotz,” Kirill offered.

Patricio’s frown deepened. “Who?”

Kirill closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does no one do research anymore? Did any of you truly not see this coming?” He opened his eyes and looked around the room. “We’ve known Saamal for how many seasons now? Am I the only one who saw the benefit in learning something about his country, about his enemies?”

Adonis and Patricio glanced at each other, sharing a rare moment of camaraderie. They both turned back to Kirill and shook their heads. Saamal observed Kirill with renewed interest. “You speak as though you’ve found information that may help. May I say, I am completely educated on the subject of my kingdom, and the situation seems…unfortunately grim.” His spirits sank with his last words, his brief amusement with Kirill’s thirst for information vanishing under the overwhelming shadow of the oncoming monsters.

Kirill raised an eyebrow. “Of course.” He searched the room. “Where is Etienne?”

“He’s out with the wolves and jaguars trying to keep people from falling into pits,” Adonis offered.

“Cipactli has begun feeding herself then.” Kirill pressed his lips into a thin line. “We need the wolf. Can you contact your jaguars and have them return Etienne here?” Kirill asked.

Saamal considered his request, then nodded. The wind would carry his words, and the jaguars would already be listening for him. He went to the window and called out to the large cats, pushing his will into the words and then throwing them to the wind. A few jaguars roared in the distance, their cries rising like a song, passed on until it echoed in the throats of a hundred beasts. He faced Kirill, inclining his head.

“Excellent.” Kirill faced Patricio and gestured out the window behind him. “There is a giant horned serpent approaching the castle—Uktena. His breath is poisonous and his body all but invulnerable to mortal and immortal weapons alike—with one exception. The seventh scale from the tip of his head is weak, and it is the only point at which you might strike a successful blow. A wound in any other spot will be a minor irritation and the serpent will likely eat you before you get a chance to correct your error. Do not be fooled if it seems to turn into fire, it is an illusion only.”

Patricio nodded solemnly, unsheathing the massive sword at his side. The metal shone with a fine blue sheen as he approached the window. Saamal opened his mouth, part of him wanting to stop him, to tell them all to go home. This wasn’t their fight, he had no right to ask them to risk their lives for him. Before he could speak, his gaze slid to Aiyana, lying still as death on her bed. He closed his mouth, remaining silent as Patricio launched himself from the window and flew toward Uktena.

Kirill had already turned to Adonis. “The kanontsistonties can be killed if you force them to swallow burning stones. Hearthstones are particularly potent, so grab some from the fireplace. I trust you can heat them?”

Adonis grinned and fetched a handful of stones from the grate. The large stones sat heavily in his clawed hand, held like an offering to the goddess of the home herself. As he held them, they began to glow, fiery veins of red and orange slithering over them until they were as brilliant as coals in the center of a bonfire. Adonis tilted his head, staring at his handwork for a moment. He raised his other hand and rolled his wrist, snatching something from the air. Kirill rubbed his temples as Adonis produced a cigarette and promptly pressed it between his lips and then lowered the tip to the glowing stones.

“Just to be clear,” the demon said, speaking around the cigarette and sending clove-scented smoke into the room. “The kanontsistonties are…?”

“The flying heads,” Kirill muttered. “Do not try to light them on fire, they will not die, they will simply become flaming flying heads and possibly do even greater damage.”

“Got it.” Adonis proceeded to the window, trailing smoke in his wake.

Kirill faced the window. “I will hold back the wendigos until Etienne can arrive to help. Between our wolf prince and his lupine companions, the wendigos should not advance to the castle.”

“And what will you do, Kirill?” Saamal studied the vampire, hoping that the growing suspicion inside him was wrong. “You don’t intend to take on Camazotz?”

“You know as well as I do that Camazotz is a coward. As soon as he sees signs of a battle, he will halt and wait to see what the winning side will be. He wouldn’t be coming at all if he didn’t think you were alone and weak.”

“And if he does come, and is prepared to fight?”

Kirill faced Saamal, his emotionless face an inscrutable mask. “Do you think I do not have a plan?”

“I don’t want to insult you…” Saamal trailed off, searching Kirill’s eyes for some break in his calm.

The crystal blue eyes remained as expressive as ice. “Then don’t.” He turned toward the window, walking away at an angle, without giving Saamal his back.

“You have so little faith in me that you would not have me join the battle?” Saamal asked, his voice low.

Kirill paused. “You must wake Aiyana. This is only the first wave of attacks, there will be more, and we cannot hold off every monster in your kingdom forever. Should the gods decide to join, the war will be over before it has begun.”

The air grew heavy with the unanswered question. Kirill’s earlier suggestion that the prophecy meant Aiyana had to die came back to Saamal and he clutched his sword tighter in his hand, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could face the vampire standing on both feet. His skin itched under his fur and his teeth ached to spill blood as his anger stirred in anticipation of Kirill’s next words.

“You must stop seeing death as the end, and start seeing it as the beginning,” he said quietly. “Some part of you must have known that the kiss of death mentioned in the prophecy was a reference to actually dying.” He turned to the secret passageway as if he had more knowledge of the castle than he should. “None of us will kill her, Saamal. It is up to you. But you should understand that this war will end in her death one way or another. Either you will kill her to end her curse and bring her back to you, or you will remain too weak to keep your enemies from ending her life.” He paused before entering the passageway. “Do let me know when you’ve made your decision. Irina will be very cross with me if I don’t come home before the sun rises.”

The vampire vanished through the passageway before Saamal could speak, before the anger simmering inside him could find a way to unleash itself. The stump of his left leg throbbed, sharp pains stabbed along the edge as though Cipactli’s teeth were still embedded in his flesh.

And still it didn’t hurt as bad as the growing suspicion that the prophecy would not let him off with a kiss.

Saamal hobbled over to Aiyana’s bed, every step taking a little more energy, draining a little more of the fight from him. Chaos raged outside, allies he’d never expected to have battled creatures he’d never thought would have the courage to face him. Cipactli was preparing to throw the entire kingdom from her back, and contrary to everything his mirrors had ever shown him, it seemed as if the time of the Fifth Sun would end.

None of it mattered right now.

Suddenly too weary to stand any longer. Saamal slumped into the chair he’d placed by Aiyana’s bedside. He trailed a hand through the silk of her beautiful black hair and caressed the copper skin of her cheek.

“I decided to marry you before I ever knew you.” His mind drifted back to the past, back to a time when every problem, every question had had an easy answer. “You were to bring me power, power was good for my kingdom, and thus I decided it would be so. If the prophecy had told me killing you would bring me power…” His throat constricted, but he shook his head and continued. “I would have done it. But now…”

He put his head down on the bed, hand still resting against her hair. He couldn’t kill her. Prophecy or no, power or no, he couldn’t hurt her. Kirill could be wrong—the prophecy could be wrong. How could anyone take that risk?

“I love you,” he whispered.

“You don’t know what love is,” a feminine voice hissed.

Saamal shot to his feet, rage giving him strength as he recognized Chumana’s voice. The Spring Maiden stood inside the room, glowing with her power. The perfume of spring flowers filled the air until it filled his senses, hyacinths, lavender, and roses, all pricking his memory and reminding him of a time when that scent had made him smile. A sharp contrast to the violent images it filled his mind with now.

“You have so many enemies, my love.” Chumana sauntered closer, swaying her hips with every step and trailing her hand over the bed Saamal had vacated, lingering on the bloodstains revealed by the cast off blankets. “I will bring them all here, one by one. Your friends will not hold them off for long. Eventually the castle will be taken, and your precious Aiyana will die as she was meant to do over a century ago.” Chumana stood straighter, bending her body to show her curves at their greatest advantage, pulling the slick crimson material firm against her curves. “Whether I am still willing to accept you after she’s dead depends greatly on how you treat me now.”

“If Aiyana dies, the first thing I will do with my returning power is see that you never see the light of day again.”

Chumana snorted. “No you won’t. I know you, Death. Know you better, it seems, than you know yourself. Once Aiyana is gone, I will be the best chance you have to heal your precious land. Even if you manage to calm Cipactli and get her to lie still once again, the earth is hurting, in constant pain. I can help it heal, help it grow. And as we both know, you will do anything to save your beloved kingdom and extend the time of the Fifth Sun.”

Saamal looked at Aiyana’s peaceful face, Kirill’s words playing through his mind and Chumana’s voice like a buzzing insect in the background. “Not anything.”

A hiss more serpent than human made Saamal turn his head in time to see Chumana draw an obsidian dagger from a sheath at her side. It had been a gift from him months after he’d kidnapped her, when he’d been certain her loyalties had firmly settled with him instead of her husband. The symbolism of watching her now draw it against him was not lost on him. He waited for the surge of anger that the threat to Aiyana should bring, but instead he only experienced a bone-deep weariness. He closed his hand more firmly on his sword and pushed his way to a standing position, his left leg screaming at the movement.

“I will end this, one way or another,” Chumana ground out. “You are in no shape to fight me.”

Saamal faced her, trying to remember a time when she’d been the sweet, smiling Maiden of Spring, the woman who had spent her time bringing beautiful flowers from the earth and dancing in meadows with her people. It had been her ability to coax the land to be its most productive, the way she brought joy to his people and in that way encouraged them to work harder and treasure the land all the more that had attracted him to her. With his goal in his mind, he’d swept down on her one day in the field, carried her away before her husband even knew he’d been watching. He’d frightened her to tears at first. It had taken days to woo her into his arms, to coax her loyalty from her. The torrential storms sent by her husband had been a blessing in disguise. With all that rain and Chumana’s willing assistance, the earth had been greener than he’d ever seen it. Now, having met Aiyana, known her, he understood something. Something he perhaps wouldn’t have understood if his initial efforts to claim Aiyana’s hand had been successful.

“I’m sorry, Chumana.”

Confusion flickered in the Spring Maiden’s eyes, but she didn’t lower her weapon. “Sorry? Sorry for what?” A muscle in her jaw clenched and she tightened her grip on her weapon. “For turning your back on me after all I did for you? For humiliating me in the eyes of the entire pantheon by claiming a mortal child’s hand in marriage when I had never been worthy of more than your bed?”

“For pretending I wanted you when all I wanted was your help for my kingdom.” Saamal shook his head sadly. “I never should have—”

A scream ripped from Chumana’s throat, her eyes bursting to life with vivid emerald light. She pointed the dagger at Saamal, her entire body trembling. “You bastard.” Her voice wavered between a high hysterical shriek and the sibilant hiss of a serpent. “You will not humiliate me any more. After Aiyana is dead, I will make you beg me to come back.” Her green-eyed gaze slid to Aiyana. “She will suffer before she dies.”

“You’ll have to go through me first,” Adonis said firmly.

Saamal glanced over his shoulder in time to see Adonis enter the room from the secret passageway. He was in human form rather than demon, but the grim expression in his hazel eyes held a weight that Saamal had never seen in the incubus before. “What are you doing in here, Adonis?”

“I had a bad feeling about leaving you and Aiyana alone.” Adonis sneered at Chumana. “Then I saw her heading inside. I wouldn’t dream of robbing you of this fight, but I thought it might allow you to enjoy the battle more if you knew someone was watching over Aiyana.”

Relief washed over Saamal, a weight he hadn’t realized he felt lifting from his shoulders. He felt stronger now, but knowing that Adonis would be protecting Aiyana freed him to concentrate fully on Chumana—a concentration he would need if he was to battle in his current lame state. He raised his hands, calling the spirit of the jaguar. It came in a wash of energy, invigorating him, sliding through his muscles and bones. His leg throbbed as the energy swirled around the wound, not healing it completely, but repairing enough of the damage that he could bear the pain if he had to put his weight on it. Fur flowed over his body and black claws slid from his fingertips in a welcome, prickling rush. He bared his teeth at Chumana.

“This will end here, Flower Maiden,” he snarled.

Chumana’s gaze flicked behind him and her eyes widened in horror. She flung out a hand. “No! You need a binding spell first!”

Saamal whirled to see what was happening behind him, pulse thundering in his ears at the urgency in Chumana’s voice.

The blood froze in his veins, and his heart ceased its beating. Adonis stood over Aiyana, a dagger held in his hands. Before Saamal could move, before he could scream, Adonis brought the blade down into Aiyana’s chest.

Chapter Eleven

Pain exploded in Aiyana’s chest, lightning bolts of agony shooting out from her heart and setting her nerves on fire. Her knees hit the earth with a jarring thud and the world spun around her as her body pitched to the ground. Pressure in her chest made it hard to breathe and she clawed at her body as if she could rid herself of the horrible feeling.

Tenoch appeared beside her, his face screwed up with concern and sadness. “You’re not alone,” he said softly. “I’ll stay with you.”

Aiyana opened her mouth to ask him what was happening, to demand answers, but no words would come. Bitter fear coated her tongue as her head lulled forward, too heavy to hold up anymore. Moist earth pressed against her forehead. Darkness closed over her and she felt as if she were falling. Down, down, down past the earth, past her body. Falling.

A roar unlike anything she’d ever heard erupted around her. Human, but so twisted with rage and pain that it was only barely recognizable. Aiyana opened her eyes.

“By the gods,” she whispered.

She was standing beside her own body. It way lying on a bed, positioned like a child’s doll, hands folded over her middle, eyes closed as if in sleep. The skin of her face was relaxed and expressionless, frozen as if… Aiyana gaped at the blood flowing from a wound in her chest and she stumbled back a step at the sight of a man standing over her, blood dripping from the dagger in his hands. He was a stranger to her, hazel eyes and wild brown hair. As she studied at him, his features flickered, changed. She gasped as she recognized the other face. “Okomi.” Her brows furrowed and she stared at him harder, trying to make out who he really was amidst the shifting faces. “But how…?” His features shifted again, this time to a velvety brown muzzle and golden eyes. Aiyana stumbled back another step. “Coyote!”

“Aiyana!”

Aiyana whirled to find Saamal standing next to her and her lips parted in shock. “Saamal! Saamal, you’re here!” She tried to go to him, but he looked past her, through her. Aiyana halted, confused and increasingly uneasy. He was staring at her body—the physical body gushing blood—horror etched into every line of his handsome face, pain shining in his beautiful ebony eyes. Like the man with the dagger, Saamal’s features shifted as she watched him, melting from human to jaguar and back. It was as if Aiyana could see all of his faces at once. But none of them gave any indication that they saw her.

The hair on Aiyana’s arms and neck stood up as a skin-tingling surge of energy roared from the body on the bed like a flooded river bursting from its banks. Saamal took a step toward the man holding the dagger, murder glowing in his eyes. The rush of energy hit him full in the chest and he staggered back. As soon as his left leg stepped back, his body tilted wildly. His arms fell out as if to catch himself, but the energy continued to barrel into him and his body tensed and seemed to freeze, mid-fall. 

A terrified feminine squeak sounded from somewhere across the room. Aiyana half-turned and gritted her teeth as she noticed the serpent woman who’d tried to have her killed standing on the other side of Saamal. As Aiyana watched, she raised her hands, shedding her human form for the body of a giant serpent-woman. Her body swelled and undulated, scales clattering as they spilled over her form. Jade green slitted eyes blinked at Saamal as he stood locked in the flood of power. Before Aiyana could react, Chumana snapped her tail at Saamal, slamming into him with tremendous force. Saamal grunted and his body hurtled across the room and out the window. As the god vanished, she whirled on the man with the dagger.

“You fool!” she screamed. “You killed her with no binding spell in place! Death has his full powers back!”

The man with the dagger shook the blade, flicking off thick droplets of blood, and then drew a handkerchief from his pocket. He cleaned the blade as his human features melted away, revealing Coyote in his true form.

“If I were you, Spring Maiden,” Coyote drawled lazily. “I would run.”

“Bastard,” she hissed.

Aiyana blinked, lost in the insanity going on around her. Chumana screamed again and then slithered from the room like a bolt of lightning dancing across the sky. She was gone in a flash and Coyote smirked after her.

“Women,” he sighed. He replaced his dagger and ran a hand over Aiyana’s hair. “Don’t disappoint me, Aiyana. I’m counting on you to make everything right.” He shook his head as he turned to the secret passageway. “The kingdom hasn’t been any fun since the Jaguar King lost his roar.”

He vanished from the room, leaving Aiyana alone with her thoughts and her own dead body. She groped behind her for a chair, wanting to sit and feeling ridiculous for it. “What is going on?” She stared down at her body, noticing for the first time that she had the same misty consistency as Tenoch. “I’m…a ghost?”

“Yes.”

She whirled to find Tenoch floating beside her as if her thoughts had summoned him. He looked the same as he always did, still wearing the ceremonial garb that he’d been dressed in at the time of his death, his flesh still transparent and pale. Still, he seemed different, more…real. Aiyana blinked at him helplessly, her thoughts a tangled mess. Tenoch’s features softened and he laid a hand on her arm. It was as solid as Saamal’s grip had felt while she was alive, though it lacked the warmth of the living.

“I know this is overwhelming,” Tenoch said gently, “but you must stay calm. I think perhaps your time is not quite up. Come with me.”

Aiyana nodded, too overwhelmed to think of anything to say. Her body was numb and she wasn’t sure if that was a result of shock, or if this was how ghosts always felt. She had the odd thought to ask Tenoch, but dismissed the idea immediately. Now wasn’t the time.

Tenoch pulled at her and they both floated out the window that Saamal had been knocked out of only seconds ago. Aiyana clutched Tenoch’s arm, instinct sending her heart into her throat as she sailed out over nothing. She waited for the plummeting sensation in her stomach, even though part of her knew it wouldn’t come. Tenoch patted her hand, a welcome gesture of comfort, and Aiyana took a deep breath and tried to push away the unsettling new sensations enough to concentrate.

“Look.” Tenoch pointed at something on the ground.

Aiyana blinked, tearing her attention away from her own body to take in her surroundings. It was as if seeing what was happening brought reality crashing back. Sound came roaring back to her, and her senses were suddenly overwhelmed by chaos. Bestial snarling, strange howls and cries, the song of metal singing through the air. The coppery scent of blood surrounded her, whipped around by gusting winds that howled ferociously even though she could barely feel them. Aiyana’s jaw dropped and she blinked at her first view of her kingdom’s existence on the physical plane in over a century.

It was a siege. Monsters straight out of the nightmares of her youth crawled from the forest and lumbered toward the castle. Warriors she’d never seen before met them as they came closer, facing off in deadly battles.

A wendigo roared, a piercing screech that chilled Aiyana’s ghostly blood to ice. Its white fur was speckled with blood and saliva dripped from its jaws, its eternally starving body more bone than flesh. It had the head of a monstrous deer, though the jagged teeth were all predator. Long, bony arms hung down to the ground, ending in three thick digits, each with a claw as wide as Aiyana’s thumbs and as sharp as a falcon’s talon. Vicious antlers protruded from its head, each point gleaming with the blood of past victims. Despite its emaciated appearance, Aiyana knew that the wendigo was powerful, stronger than a bear, driven by an insatiable hunger for blood and flesh. It screamed as it brought a boney, claw-tipped hand swiping down at its enemy.

The warrior that met the wendigo in battle was more beast than man. Though shorter than the lean wendigo with its towering antlers, the warrior’s hulking body with its shoulders as broad as a ceiba tree and its arms as massive as the body of an anaconda was equally intimidating. Brown fur covered its body, and its face ended in a wolfish snout full of sharp white teeth. Glowing golden eyes flashed as it rose up to meet the wendigo’s strike, slashing at the wendigo’s protruding ribs with a monstrous claw-tipped paw. The wendigo screeched, listing backwards as brackish blood gushed from its belly. The wolfman pressed on, snarling and snapping its jaws. It closed a hand around the wendigo’s throat as the beast bent in half over its wounded midsection. Aiyana’s stomach rolled as he tore the head off the neck with one sharp jerk, sending the skull rolling down the hill.

The wolfman didn’t stay to see the body fall. He loped off toward the next wendigo, its movements easy and powerful, its grace belying its bulk.

An agonized scream rent the air and Aiyana diverted her attention to where a shadowy form faced off against a man with skin so pale it nearly glowed. The shadowed form was tall, thin, and seemed to be made of all angles. Aiyana gasped as she noticed the sharp bones jutting out of its elbows like daggers. Glowing orbs caught her attention and she recognized the creature just in time. She tore her gaze away, staring at Tenoch with wide eyes.

“Itopa'hi,” she breathed.

“You are a ghost,” Tenoch reminded her. “You can look, no harm will come to you.”

Unable to resist the temptation, Aiyana peered down at the gangly monster, her attention drawn to the back of his head where his second face peered out at the world. It was said that to look upon Itopa'hi’s second face was to be paralyzed forever—or until the creature came back to disembowel you with the knife-like protrusions from its elbows. None had ever viewed that second face and lived.

Her stomach turned as she faced every child’s greatest nightmare. The second face was gaunt, drawn, and sickly green. Its eyes rolled around in the sockets, seeking out a victim, always watching. Its gaze passed over her and Aiyana held her breath despite Tenoch’s warning, waiting for the sick sense of paralysis that part of her was certain she would feel. The glassy eyes rolled over her with no effect, moving on as if it couldn’t see her. Aiyana trembled with relief, feeling foolish for being so afraid.

The warrior squaring off against Itopa'hi showed no fear. The pale planes of his face remained as smooth and sharp as glass, his eyes glowing a faint crimson as he thrust with his dagger, aiming for Itopa'hi’s heart. The creature snarled and jerked back, easily dodging the blade, then returned the warrior’s attack with one of its own. After several more parries and thrusts, the warrior took several larger steps back.

Itopa'hi laughed, a spine tingling, terrifying sound, mocking the warrior’s retreat. The warrior stood as still as a statue, staring Itopa'hi down as her hysterical laughter filled the air. Darkness flowed over his pale flesh until even his glowing eyes were lost to the cloud. The warrior’s clothing fell to the ground in limp folds and Aiyana’s jaw dropped. The black mist surged toward the laughing Itopa'hi like a cloud of coal dust, flowing into her mouth and nostrils. Itopa'hi choked, her laugher dying as she clutched at her throat, her eyes bulging in her skull. Aiyana raised a hand to her own throat as Itopa'hi suffocated, her body twitching as she collapsed to the ground. After several long moments, the dark mist flowed from the body and coalesced once again. The warrior reappeared, the muscled planes of his naked body bared to the moonlight. He redressed as if he had all the time in the world, adjusting his clothes and replacing his weapons. After cleaning his dagger on his cloak, he scanned his surroundings, eyes flashing as they landed on a wendigo that had slipped past the wolfman. His dagger flashed as he darted for the wendigo.

“Vampire,” Tenoch supplied. “Prince of Dacia.”

A blast of heat hit them both and Aiyana cried out as fire rushed through her. The sensation wasn’t painful, but it was strange, unsettling. Tenoch put a hand on her arm.

“You are a ghost, Aiyana, the fire will not hurt you.”

“I know it just…feels so odd. I haven’t been dead long.” Not wanting to dwell on her current state, Aiyana searched for the source of the fire and gasped.

It was the man who had stood beside her bed, the one who had been holding the bloody dagger. Or rather, it looked like the man Coyote had been pretending to be. Only, he did not appear exactly the same as he had then. Ebony wings extended from his back like ominous sails, beating the air with powerful bursts of movement that sent him hurtling through the air toward clouds of chittering black shapes. He opened his mouth and blew out, sending another burst of flames at the cloud. The scent of burning hair filled the air and the glow of the fire lit up the demon’s opponent. Aiyana jerked back as she recognized the human heads with bat wings sprouting from either side, eyes sallow and deathlike, sharp teeth dripping with blood. As they screamed, the demon hurled a handful of stones. The rocks glowed like hearth fire embers and the ones that found their mark down the throats of the monsters quickly brought their targets falling out of the sky like dead weights.

“Kanontsistonties,” she whispered.

Tenoch nodded. “The Flying Heads. The one who fights them is Adonis, demon prince of Nysa.”

“Another prince?” Before Aiyana could demand more information, the glitter of scales lit up her peripheral vision. Aiyana’s jaw dropped. An angel hovered in the sky mere feet away from the mouth of the giant horned serpent Uktena. The massive snake rose higher than the tallest trees in the forest, its scales glistening with patches of slimy algae and hung with seaweed where its scales were jagged and broken. Aiyana imagined she could hear the sound of rushing water as she pictured the beast crawling from its underwater home, venturing onto the land in search of fresh meat. What had happened to bring the monster this far inland? What had drawn it to the palace?

Aiyana abandoned her thoughts as Uktena’s forked tongue flicked out, nearly knocking the angel from the air. The angel’s long blond hair waved behind him as he dove toward the ground, spinning around and coming up behind the horned serpent. Metal flashed in the moonlight as the angel raised a massive sword, light dancing over its unornamented blade. The angel aimed for a spot on the back of the serpent’s neck. Uktena twisted around, but the angel followed the movement, shooting forward like the well-aimed point of an arrow. The sword slid into the back of the serpent like a spade through moist earth. A great hiss that rattled Aiyana’s organs inside her spewed from the snake’s mouth. Death tremors wracked the serpentine body and it thrashed about on the ground, crushing trees beneath its heavy coils. Its tail came dangerously close to the palace, tangling in the thick circle of briars surrounding the stone. Finally the lifeless body fell to the earth, rattling the very foundation of the castle.

The angel tore his sword from the corpse and tilted his head to the sky. A dark shape was approaching and the angel flew to meet it. Something hurtled through Aiyana’s body. She gasped. It was a sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced, different than the warm rush of fire, more like a thread being pulled through her body. She gaped at the figure hovering a few feet away from her, the man who’d just flown through her incorporeal form, and found herself staring into the shocked face of the demon prince of Nysa.

“Aiy…Aiyana?”

Aiyana raised a hand toward him, wanting to grab his arm but afraid her hand would pass right through. “You can see me?”

The demon nodded slowly, snatching a flying head out of the air when it dove for him and ripping its wings off without looking. He never broke eye contact with Aiyana as he drew a stone from his pocket, breathed fire on it until the stone glowed a faint orange, then plunged it into the beast’s throat. He released the creature, letting it fall to the earth as he continued to blink at Aiyana. “How…? How are you…?”

The ground cracked open in a cacophony of shattered rock, cutting off whatever response Aiyana might have offered. She glanced down to find another large pit opening up, massive teeth at the bottom opening and closing like the maw of a great beast. Her lips parted as she remembered Saamal’s story of creation, his warnings of the pact that had been made and was now not being honored.

“Cipactli,” she whispered.

“She’s getting stronger.” Adonis shook his head. “I hope Saamal can defeat her a second time. I’m game for a war, but taking on a primordial monster-god is a little out of my wheelhouse.”

At the mention of Saamal’s name, Aiyana searched the area, searching for some sign of her fiancé. When she spotted him, her heart seized in her chest.

“Saamal…”

The god was enormous. As tall as the castle itself, Saamal towered over the land, eyes burning like twin suns, skin coated in the spotted fur of a jaguar. The claws on his hands were the size of young trees, wickedly sharp and tipped with the crimson stain of blood. Chumana’s lower serpentine body was wrapped around him, emerald scales glistening in the moonlight as the muscles flexed under her skin, struggling to hold Saamal even as she grappled with the hand straining to tear out her throat. Saamal’s eyes had bled to the tar-black pits of his power-mad state. His hand trembled as he tried to close his fingers around Chumana’s green-scaled throat.

“Saamal should be more powerful than her,” Adonis muttered in frustration. “When you—” He paused, glancing at Aiyana.

“It’s all right.” She cleared her throat. “I know I’m dead.”

Adonis shoved a hand through his hair. “The power he gave you came back to him. Chumana should be no match for him now.”

“Chumana has had a century to gather her power,” Tenoch spoke up. “Saamal has spent that same century weak, and now Cipactli has turned on him so he no longer draws power from the land.”

Adonis blinked as if noticing Tenoch for the first time. “And you are…?”

Tenoch opened his mouth, his eyes flashing with remembered anger. Then suddenly his shoulders drooped. “It’s a long story.”

Aiyana blocked them out, riveted by the battle going on between Saamal and Chumana. Another giant pit opened up behind Saamal. Chumana noticed the pit, slitted serpentine eyes flicking from it to Saamal. She surged forward, forcing Saamal to put a foot back. Aiyana screamed, imagining the sharp teeth she’d seen at the bottom of the other pit. Saamal bellowed in agony.

“Cipactli has him.” Tenoch’s voice lacked any hint of joy or satisfaction. It was empty, hollow, the voice of someone who didn’t know how to feel yet.

“He just regenerated that foot,” Adonis cursed.

Heart pounding, Aiyana scanned her surroundings, searching for something to save Saamal. There had to be something, someone… Saamal bellowed again, the muscles in his forearm bulging as he tried to heave himself out of the pit with one hand, the other grasping Chumana’s scaled arm. Pain twisted his face and he roared. Chumana tried to take advantage of his pain, but no matter how she struggled, Saamal maintained his grip on her arm. She hissed, baring sharp, curved fangs.

Suddenly Aiyana had an idea. She tried to grab Adonis’ arm, but her hands passed right through him. She swore in frustration.

Adonis hazel eyes grew even wider. “What? What is it?”

“My body,” Aiyana said urgently. “You have to throw it into the pit.”

All the color drained from Adonis’ face and he drooped sharply in the air before catching himself. “Saamal would kill me. I have a wife, she would be very cross if—”

“Adonis, don’t you see? Cipactli’s pact demanded a sacrifice. She’s been waiting all this time, waiting for Saamal to make good on his word.”

“It’s too late for that,” Adonis insisted. “If a sacrifice is all it took—”

“I am royal blood, my family has a pact with the land the same as Saamal,” Aiyana said firmly. “Cipactli will not ignore it.” Desperation seized her and she turned pleading eyes to Adonis. “Adonis, please, I’m already dead. That body serves no one lying there in the bed. Feed it to Cipactli, show her that we intend to make amends. I would do it myself if I could, but…” She swiped a hand through Adonis’ arm again and the demon shuddered.

Adonis pressed his lips into a thin line, but then sighed in resignation. “I’m afraid that even if this works, I’m going to be the next sacrifice,” he muttered. “And right after the god gets all his power back.” He slanted a glance at Aiyana. “One of these days I’ll learn how to say no to a beautiful woman in distress. If I live that long,” he added pointedly.

Aiyana held her breath as Adonis flew toward the window and into her bedroom. She wanted to follow him, but she couldn’t tear herself away from Saamal, couldn’t turn her back on him. After Adonis came back out with her body, she closed her eyes, partially to avoid seeing her limp body and partially to focus on what she wanted. She concentrated on her breathing, deep, slow breaths. I am a willing sacrifice. I give my body to the land. She remembered what Saamal had told her. It’s not merely flesh and blood. It’s honor, respect. I have no ceremony to offer you, Cipactli, but accept all that I have left. I give it to you willingly. Without you our kingdom is nothing.

For the second time that night, Aiyana felt herself falling. A startled gasp from Tenoch made her heart beat faster, threatened her calm with fear. She shut out those emotions, concentrated on Cipactli, on honoring her sacrifice.

Dirt. There was dirt all around her, pressing against her skin. She could feel the warmth of the earth, the life. All the things that had been lost to the world above, all the things that were missing, it was all here, the potential still here. Energy sizzled against her, the warmth of a blazing fire in the dead of winter, a summer rain in the middle of a drought. She breathed it in, let it sink into her. Awareness crept out and suddenly her senses screamed to life.

She could feel the earth. Its lifeforce coursed through her, the blood in her veins like rivers rushing through valleys, her flesh like warm soil, her fingernails like sleek stone. She was one with the land—and she could feel its suffering.

Tears slid down her cheeks as pain throbbed like a separate heartbeat inside her. A consciousness brushed against her, ancient and primal. She had a sense of thick scales and reptilian eyes, mouthfuls of sharp teeth and a deep hunger.

I can feel you, Cipactli. I can feel your pain, your hunger. I know how you have been ignored, left to suffer alone. She drew herself up, her eyes still closed, darkness still surrounding her. It ends now.

“Brave princess. Precious words.”

Cipactli’s voice boomed into Aiyana’s consciousness, not words, but thoughts. Aiyana bit her lip to keep from crying out, the weight of that voice, the raw power, nearly more than she could bear.

Not just words, Cipactli, she promised.

“Black God changed. Not feared. Loved.”

Aiyana paused, confused. You mean by me? Loved by me?

“Loved by all. Not a god, a man. Helps if he can. Little things. Plow. Build. Hard work. No magic.”

Saamal worked for his people? Aiyana searched her memory, trying to recall Saamal ever saying anything about what he’d done over the last century. He’d mentioned seeking power, mentioned trying to wake her. Nothing about interacting with the people. She stopped, remembering something Saamal had told her about realizing the people feared him. He doesn’t want to be feared anymore.

“I do not want to be feared anymore. Black God is loved. I will be loved.”

The pits that have opened up are rather frightening, Aiyana thought carefully, not wanting to offend the crocodilian.

“Starving. Must eat. I die, all die. You will find new way. I will no longer be feared.”

I want to help. Pain lanced Aiyana’s heart and she tried to keep the sound of tears from her voice. But I’m dead. I cannot help anymore.

“Goddesses do not die. Change. But do not die. Return to the earth, then return to life.”

Aiyana opened her mouth to ask what Cipactli meant, to follow the hopeful thread of thought the crocodilian’s words had inspired in her. Whatever she might have said was cut off as she felt herself rising, moving through earth and rock. The same buzz of life sizzled over her nerves, invigorated her. Strength flowed into her limbs and she flailed her arms, fingers digging into the soil around her. She climbed through the earth, adding her energy to that around her. Her head broke free of the surface and the wind rushed to meet her face and Aiyana opened her eyes.

The scene she had left when she’d fallen down into the earth was nothing compared to the sight that met her eyes now. Aiyana blinked, certain she was seeing things.

Female warriors had joined the men. The hulking werewolf that had been so violently tearing his way through the wendigos had been joined by a female of his kin. Her fur was lighter than his, her eyes shining a little brighter, but she shared his monstrous claws, thickly furred body, and maw full of jagged white teeth. As Aiyana watched, the female threw herself forward, sailing through the air like a battering ram into the chest of an oncoming wendigo. She raked her claws down its body, gutting it from stem to stern. Intestines and other organs erupted from the body, filling the air with the scent of blood and death as the female howled and whirled to leap at her next target.

“Marcela! Knock them down! They can’t bend their legs to get back up!”

A raven-haired beauty with skin as pale as fresh snow was shouting into the wind, leaning out Aiyana’s bedroom window. She held a bow in one hand, loaded with an obsidian tipped arrow and a quiver full of the same on her back. Her red cloak billowed around her like a victorious flag as she pulled an arrow back and held it ready, aiming for a group of massive, shaggy figures on the ground. She let it fly and it whizzed through the air, planting itself in the face of one of the enormous shapes. It screamed, a sound that seemed to shake the very earth itself, throwing its furred head back and baring its face to the moon.

“Yawkwawiak,” Aiyana whispered.

The giant bears, easily ten feet tall and nearly as round, staggered forward on stiff legs with no joints. Their bodies lumbered ominously forward as they opened snouts full of thick, sharpened teeth and roared.

A feminine voice laughed, the sound dancing on the breeze. Aiyana tried to follow the sound, straining to see the source. For a split second she could have sworn she saw a face in the wind, bright blue-green eyes sparkling in a ghostly form with long, tumbling hair. The being, whatever she was, flowed down with the force of a gale wind, slamming into one of the yawkwawiaks and throwing him to the ground, rolling him like a wagon wheel for several meters.

“Ivy!”

The raven-haired warrior was shouting again, this time directing her attention to a glowing beacon standing on the ground in front of the castle. The figure looked up in time to see the bow-woman drop a heavy sack from the tower window. It broke open when it hit the ground and a wave of small stones flowed from the torn pouch. The beacon bent to gather some of the stones, and Aiyana realized it was a woman. A woman glowing like the flame of a candle, lighting up the area around her as if she were a small sun. She held the stones in her hands and they burst to life like stoked embers, glittering scarlet in red veins. The woman wound her arm back and waited as a cloud of kanontsistonties swooped down towards the castle. When they got close enough, she hurled the stones into the cloud. The kanontsistonties screeched, some of them hovering in midair before going still and falling dead to the earth.

The tide of the battle turned, steered by the fighting princes and the women warriors who had joined them. The wendigos howled and ran like frightened dogs back to the forest. The kanontsistonties erupted in a series of squeaks and shrieks and flew off as one sparse cloud for the darkness of the trees. Aiyana rose up higher and higher, her head rising above the trees even as her feet remained firmly planted in the earth. Power like nothing she’d ever experienced before had been building inside her as she viewed the battle, and now it surged through her veins until she felt as if she might explode if she didn’t use it.

She immediately sought Saamal. She found the god kneeling on the ground beside the pit, his left leg a bloody stump. He had Chumana pinned to the ground, her green-scaled body writhing, her tail lashing against his body like a metallic whip. She hissed, raking her claws down his arms, struggling to get free. Saamal tightened his hand around her neck, but didn’t crush her throat. Aiyana felt a small rush of satisfaction when she realized he was killing her slowly. He must have discovered what Chumana had tried to do. He was avenging her.

“My love!” Aiyana called out, raising her voice over the roaring winds. Instead of muffling her voice, the wind caught it, carried it to Saamal and flung it at him. The god reared back and raised his eyes. He froze when he saw Aiyana, his entire body going deathly still.

Chumana took advantage of his shock and wriggled free, claws digging into the ground and tail lashing back and forth as she tried to scramble away from Saamal. Aiyana extended a hand, letting some of the power churning inside her flow down her arm and out toward the goddess who had tried to kill her. Twisting emerald vines that Aiyana hadn’t noticed till now flowed down her arm like a living thing, moving to do her bidding. Jagged thorns stuck out from the twisting green threads, dipping into Aiyana’s veins for blood, though they caused her no pain.

The living plants plunged down from her arm, deep into the earth. More briars exploded in front of Chumana, halting the serpent woman in her tracks. The vines bound themselves around Chumana, holding her fast. Thorns plunged into the serpent woman’s skin, sliding between the scales like a frog diving through a layer of lily pads into a pond. Chumana screamed as her blood flowed from the wounds.

“Flower Maiden,” Aiyana said, the wind once again throwing her words through the air, slamming them into Chumana with physical force. Chumana stopped struggling and faced Aiyana, her eyes growing wide.

As she stared into the other woman’s eyes, Aiyana felt her consciousness slide against Chumana’s. A shimmering thread appeared in her mind—the link she shared with the earth, the link Chumana shared with the earth through her heritage as an earth deity. That same thread connected Aiyana to the serpent woman. Suddenly Aiyana slid past a barrier and Chumana’s thoughts and mind were open, there for her to see.

“You have betrayed your people,” Aiyana accused, images from Chumana’s mind flowing over her. “You were a guardian of the land, the maiden of spring. It was your duty to care for the earth, to tend to it and keep it healthy. The magic that was given to you, the power…it was given with the belief that you would use it as it was meant to be used.”

“I did!” Chumana shouted, eyes flashing in defiance even as more of her blood spilled to the ground, flowing faster and thicker as more thorns bit into her flesh.

“You turned your back on your people. You let the land suffer, let Cipactli suffer, just to weaken your lover, to make him need your help.” Aiyana sneered. “You ran off to Midguard while your kingdom died. You took advantage of the chaos there—bonded with their land to stave off suffering through your connection to the land you abandoned.”

“No!” Chumana screamed. She thrust a hand toward Saamal, one curved claw pointing accusingly at the Black God who still stood there like a statue, gaping at Aiyana as if he couldn’t believe she was there. “He turned his back on the land, not me! I had to go to Midguard, I didn’t have the power to keep this land alive!”

“You halted the sacrifices.”

Chumana looked away, but then immediately turned back to Aiyana. “The sacrifices were barbaric,” she declared. “I did not want to see my people suffer.”

“You stayed in this kingdom and drained whatever magic you could,” Aiyana thundered, feeling Chumana’s guilt through the thin thread. “And when there was nothing left for you, you ran to Midguard and waited. You betrayed your people to keep a man who didn’t want you.”

“He wanted me first!” Chumana shrieked. “You ruined everything!”

“You would see the land die to keep Saamal out of my bed.”

“Yes,” Chumana hissed.

The last of the resistance between their minds fell away and Aiyana saw everything. All the rituals Chumana had used to pull power from the land, how she’d used all that magic to force a temporary bond with the land of Midguard. The alliances she’d made with nature deities in Midguard, promises she’d made to convince them to help her bond. She would have violated those promises as easily as she’d violated her pact to her own land if she’d ever gotten a second chance at Saamal’s bed. The land of Midguard was already suffering from its people’s lack of government and order, it didn’t need a foreign goddess usurping its natural order too.

Aiyana’s decision finalized itself as the last of Chumana’s crimes paraded before her. “You have taken for over a century, Chumana. Now it’s time for you to repay the land for all it has given you.”

The briars around Chumana’s body slithered over her scales, tightening with every coil. Chumana’s face twisted in pain and she hissed as the thorns buried between her scales and pulled. Blood flowed in sheets from the wounds, pouring into the ground.

“You put no blood, or sweat, or tears into this land,” Aiyana said sadly. “You didn’t tend it, didn’t thank it for its sacrifice. You reaped and never sowed.”

Chumana opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her eyes bulged as the vines continued to constrict around her, her blood flowing faster until crimson rivers flowed from her body. The life-giving fluid rushed to the pits that had opened up around her, flowing into them. Aiyana sighed as the land drank the goddess’ essence, fed from her energy. The rumbling in the earth that had become so constant it had faded to the background stopped and in some far off part of her mind, Aiyana felt Cipactli relax. Words flowed into her, not her own, but those of the beast of the land beneath her, shaped and helped along by Aiyana as they passed her lips.

“You have shunned your divine duties, Chumana. And now it is time to face your judgment. No more will you be the Flower Maiden. Your godhead is forfeit. Return to the cycle of life and be reborn.” She stared down at the goddess bleeding her life into the soil. “And may the earth have mercy on your soul.”

The ground cracked around Chumana, the vines pulling and tugging her down. She opened her mouth to scream and a vine jerked tight around her neck, severing her head from her body. Her arms were next, then her legs, all of her limbs falling from her body in a spray of blood that rained down to the dry grass beneath her. Blood gushed from her dismembered form and her flesh sank into the earth, swallowed up by the monster she had sought to starve to death.

Energy thrummed to life as the earth closed over her remains. A rush of power spilled over the land. Vibrant green grass burst from the barren dirt, pale blades filling the air with the fresh scent of life. The lake beside the castle swelled, bubbling as it rushed to fill its bed once again. The brittle leaves on the trees trembled and plumped with new life, new essence. The wall of brown, brittle briars that had once surrounded the castle swayed and bobbed as life rushed back into them. They slithered over the land, rushing toward Aiyana where she stood with her arms held up to the sky, her head falling back as she grew dizzy with the welcome rush of the land’s returning glory. They flowed over her body, and roses burst to life amidst the thorns.

A hand on her shoulder drew her attention from the heady buzz of energy. She had a flash of Saamal’s human face before he pulled her against his body, his mouth covering hers in a life-affirming kiss.

Chapter Twelve

Saamal’s heart pounded in his ears, every muscle in his body trembling, not from the rush of his returning powers, but from need. Aiyana was alive, she was here, she was in his arms. He could feel her body in his arms, taste her mouth under his, the sweet flavor of the air over a field of flowers. He knew she was here, and yet he couldn’t slow his heart, couldn’t completely push the driving need to reassure himself from his mind.

“You’re alive,” he murmured fervently as he dragged his lips from Aiyana’s mouth. “You’re alive.”

Aiyana wrapped her arms around his neck. “I figured it out. After I died, when I saw the land, the real, physical land… I saw you, saw your leg fall into that pit…”

Saamal covered her mouth with his again, smothering her words. He should be curious, should be desperate to know what had happened and how. But right now, all he could think about was her warm body in his arms, her breath against his skin, and the glorious fact that she was alive.

When he finally pulled away again, the scent of roses caught his attention. Bright spots of scarlet caught his eye and he raised his gaze to find they’d been surrounded by a crimson cocoon of vibrant roses and thick brown briars. The world around them had been shut away, banished from their sight by a wall of living, thriving nature.

“A natural bower.” For the first time he noticed something hard digging into his arms and looked down to see thorn-studded briars wrapped around Aiyana’s arms. The thorns pressed into her skin, piercing it in places, but Aiyana didn’t seem to be in any pain. The roses bloomed between flushed forest green leaves, each velvety petal offering a delicate perfume that filled the bower. He smiled at Aiyana and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “Your doing?” he asked, gesturing with his head at the wall of roses.

Aiyana ran her hands through his hair, fingers playing with the short black strands. “We can always have a formal wedding later…”

Her words sent Saamal’s spirit soaring, his heart pounding in triumph. His wife. Aiyana would be his wife, Aiyana wanted to be his wife. He felt as though he could conquer the five kingdoms, extend the reign of the Fifth Sun for eternity, and he honestly couldn’t have said if it was the power flowing through him like strong drink, or the knowledge that he was finally worthy of the woman he’d been planning to marry for the past century and had only fallen in love with yesterday.

Aiyana pressed her body against him, soft curves against the solid heat of his own body, and hunger spiked sharp and hot inside him. He pulled her tighter against him, startled when rose petals began to rain down from the top of the bower. He chuckled in surprise, noticing the rose petals had formed a velvet bed around them. An appropriate wedding bed for his beautiful bride. He lifted Aiyana in his arms, idly watching the briars curling around her body as they moved to make room for him.

“Briar Rose,” he murmured.

“What?”

He smiled and inclined his head toward her body, at the briars curling around her like pets. He laid her down on the bed of roses, raking his gaze over her curves and smothering a groan as his mind tried to race ahead. “You are my Briar Rose.”

Aiyana returned his smile, lying back on the cushion of petals as he lowered his body over her. “I like it.” Her eyes fluttered as he pressed his lower body against hers.

He kissed her gently, dipping his tongue into her mouth to taste her. She tasted like the first wisp of spring, the first dew on the grass. He pressed closer to her and groaned when she parted her legs, making room for him to settle more firmly into the welcoming cradle of her body. He held himself back, not wanting to rush and take her in a frenzy like some mindless beast. Aiyana deserved more, deserved better. He’d waited a century to make her his, he could move slowly.

The sound of tearing cloth drew his attention and he broke the kiss, jerking back in surprise. A laugh burst from his lips as he noticed the briars had peeled away from her body and wrapped themselves over his shoulders. The tearing sound had been his own clothing, shredded by the thorns that trailed over him like a lover’s caress. He raised his eyebrows at Aiyana, blood pooling below his waist at the slow, predatory smile that slid over her lips. She smirked up at him, her eyes not leaving his as the briars snagged her own clothes, slowly tearing them from her body in a teasing revelation.

All amusement vanished as the first curve of her breast was bared to him, the darkened skin of her nipple enticing him to lower his head and take the firm bud into his mouth. His tongue slid over the puckered flesh, rolling it in his mouth, relishing the warmth, the pleasing moans that fell from Aiyana’s lips. She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and thrusting her body up to offer more of herself to his questing mouth. Desire spiked inside him and Saamal nipped at her breast, a quick, sharp bite. Aiyana gasped, writhing beneath him as he soothed her skin with his tongue.

Aiyana pulled at his hair, trying to draw him up her body. He tore his attention from her lush breasts to roll his gaze up to her, his lips still toying with her flesh.

“No time,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering. Her body belied her words, continuing to arch toward him even as she told him to stop. “No time,” she repeated.

“The land has offered us a wedding bed,” Saamal murmured, sliding his hands up and down her body, barely able to form words to speak past the heated daze reducing his mind to mush. “We have all the time—”

Small, sharp points pressed into his back and Saamal hissed. Adrenaline spiked in his system, giving a sharp, burning edge to the pleasure licking at his body. He glanced back to see lengths of briars coiled around him, pulling him in the same direction Aiyana tugged. She spread her legs wider, undulating her hips as she urged him higher up her body. Desire bit at him and he offered her a wolfish smile. “Impatient woman.”

“The power is rising,” Aiyana murmured, her own eyes dark with desire. “I need you now.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Saamal could feel it. The energy pulsing through the earth beneath them, the trembling magic in the briars. The air held the promise of a coming storm.

Aiyana took advantage of his distraction and thrust her hips up, pulling his shoulders at the same time. The hardened length of his cock slid between her legs, nestled in the warm valley of her thighs and he groaned, thrusting instinctively. Aiyana cried out and squirmed, coating him in wet heat. The musky scent of her arousal filled his senses and Saamal’s control snapped, his intentions of gentility shattering. He pulled back enough to position himself and then thrust forward, a growl trickling from his throat as he buried himself inside her. Aiyana cried out, the sound ending in a moan and she thrashed her head from side to side, hips bucking beneath him.

The coppery scent of blood perfumed the air, teasing his senses until his head spun with it. The scent of his own blood seeping from the wounds the thorns had pressed into his back added a sense of mortality to the energy writhing around them. Their life essences trickled from them both in thin crimson rivulets, trickling over rose petals before seeping into the earth. An answering rush of power pulsed upward, bathing them in magic. Saamal’s body trembled, muscles expanding, growing as his broken control allowed the beast inside him to prowl to the forefront. His teeth grew sharper, more predatory, and his gaze fastened on Aiyana’s neck even as he continued to plunge into her body.

Aiyana writhed beneath him, thrusting her hips, scrabbling at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer to her. She focused heavy lidded eyes to him, her attention landing on his mouth. She raised a hand and brushed a finger over his sharpened canines. Her lips parted and her eyes rolled back and another moan spilled from her throat. She tilted her head to the side, baring the perfect column of her throat, and Saamal was lost. He surged forward, dipping his head to close his mouth around the silky flesh, sinking his teeth in until her blood seeped into his mouth. Aiyana cried out, nails digging into his shoulder. The briars responded as well, pressing harder into his back. The sharp points of pain drove his beast into a lustful frenzy, snapped the last shreds of his control.

He thrust faster, harder, rational thought abandoning him as he lost himself in the feel of her body, the delicious pain arcing down his back. The energy in the bower rose, crackling in the air, making the fine coating of fur creeping down his back and sides stand on end. His hands slid from Aiyana’s shoulders to the ground, claws digging into the earth as he tried with every thrust to get closer, to become one with his bride.

His pleasure sharpened, honed to a fine point. His muscles trembled and he tore himself away from her neck, eyes closed as he struggled to hold on. Aiyana screamed beneath him, her body tensing as if it would shatter and fly apart. Saamal allowed himself to fall over the edge into his own release, opening his eyes to stare down at Aiyana as he did.

Her eyes. Saamal held his breath, struck by the beauty of the roses he could see in her eyes, the image of vibrant blood-red flowers where her irises had been. Aiyana blinked at him, lips still parted as she struggled to breathe through her pleasure, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth. Her skin grew pale, lost the coppery tone and faded to the pale mint of a new sapling, the promise of new life.

He blinked, noticing for the first time that the briars coming from her body and wrapped around him had plunged into the earth below them. The briars were bright red, as though full of blood, and the earth drank it in. Saamal gently brushed a sweat-soaked strand of hair from her face.

“The land has chosen you.” His voice was low, full of awe.

“I am the new Spring Maiden.” She cupped his face in her hand. “Briar Rose.”

Saamal felt an answering smile on his own face as joy bubbled up inside him. He leaned down to kiss Aiyana, lingering at the sweetness of her lips. Something tickled his back and they both parted and looked up to find rose petals falling from the bower to rain down on them. Each petal fell faster, bringing more of its brethren with it. Patches of dark midnight blue sky appeared above them.

“I believe our time is up,” Aiyana observed.

“We will have more time,” Saamal promised, hunger stirring inside him even as he reluctantly pulled himself from the tight welcoming heat of her body. She hissed at the loss and he chuckled, a deep sound of satisfaction. He bent to nuzzle her cheek. “Much more time,” he whispered.

Aiyana shivered and laughed, wrapping her arms around him for another slow kiss. Saamal’s beast withdrew, fur melting back into his skin and his teeth losing their sharpened edges. He lost himself in Aiyana’s kiss, in the sweet caress of her lips.

The bower trembled as they parted and Saamal reluctantly got to his feet, drawing Aiyana into his arms. He pulled her close for another kiss, not yet able to let her go, not willing to let their time alone here end. The roses continued to shed their petals, and rich red velvet fell around them like a curtain. Magic shimmered in the air and Aiyana made a small sound of surprise against his mouth as the roses that fell on their bodies melted into fine velvet cloth and rich crimson silk. Saamal was now dressed in coal-black pants and a matching shirt with a crimson tunic. Aiyana was gowned in flowing rose velvet, the bodice hugging her curves before falling in a flowing skirt down to her bare feet. The material was softer than anything crafted by man, crafted from the best that nature had to offer and fitted perfectly to their bodies. When they finally stepped apart, the last of the petals fell and the briars melted back into the earth, leaving them facing the kingdom dressed in fairy finery.

Tenoch appeared beside them, his ghostly eyes wide. “What have you done?”

Saamal frowned at the apparition, his nerves tingling with increased awareness at the bewildering tone in his voice. He took Aiyana’s hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “What do you mean what have we done?”

Tenoch gestured behind him. “See for yourself.”

Saamal and Aiyana both followed the ghost’s motion. Saamal’s lips parted in wonder. The kingdom, a barren wasteland last he’d seen it, was teaming with new life. The brown grass that had been so dry and coarse beneath his feet was now green and ripe with moisture. The trees were vibrant, thick with healthy leaves that rustled in the breeze, a gentle, soothing sound completely unlike the crackling of dead leaves that had filled the air earlier. The stream that flowed past the castle was full of water again, rushing along in a healthy flow, licking at its banks. The only sign of what had once been were the bodies of fallen wolves and jaguars. Noble animals that had answered his call and lost their lives defending his castle. Saamal dipped his head, their loss weighing heavy on his heart.

A gasp beside him ripped him out of his solemn reflection. Aiyana tensed, her chest rising with a deep breath.

“It’s not over.” Her voice was hushed, heavy with promise.

The land rumbled beneath them, more of a purr than a growl. Briars rose from the earth and Aiyana sucked in a sharp breath as if she could feel them, as if they were connected to her as the others had been. Thorns drew across the bodies, shaking them as if the earth was urging them to wake. The wolves shuddered and raised their shaggy heads, golden eyes blinking blearily at the moon. The jaguars too were roused by the briars, stirred to waking as if pulled from a strange sleep. Before Saamal could speak, there was a shout from his right.

“Adonis!”

It was Ivy’s voice. Saamal whirled around to find Adonis flailing his arms, his wife Ivy still glowing beside him like a living flame, her golden eyes locked on her husband’s left leg. A briar had wrapped around his ankle, thorns sinking into his flesh and drawing thick droplets of blood. The demon raised a clawed hand to free himself. His body jerked, his hand still in the air, his eyes bulging. A tremor ran through the incubus’ body and his head fell back as he released a long, loud shout. An image of a demon with large onyx wings and fierce curving horns shimmered over his human form. Instead of the demonic image being extensions of the human form, the demon wavered and shifted, becoming a second being. The demon stumbled, staggering away from the human as Adonis split in two. Both figures hunched over, clutching their heads as they slowly regained their breath. Saamal stared in shock as they both stood and gawked at one another.

The demon blinked, crimson eyes glassy in the moonlight. “Ummm…”

The human gawked down at his body, patting it with his hands as if he could hardly believe it. “What has happened? Where am I?”

“Prince Adonis of Nysa, I presume?” the demon asked weakly.

The human nodded, hazel eyes as large and round as saucers. “I am.” His lips parted in shock and he took a startled step back. “Wait. Adonis?” He opened and closed his mouth several times before managing any sound. “I mean… Is your name Adonis?”

The demon shrugged helplessly, wings twitching behind him. “It has been for…a long time.”

“I’m alive,” the human Adonis mumbled. “I… How is this possible?”

“Incredible,” Ivy whispered. She took Demon Adonis’ arm, her eyes widening as she ran her hands over his scarlet flesh, fingers tickling over his biceps.

Demon Adonis made a rumbling sound deep in his chest, raising an arm to pull Ivy into his embrace. A mischievous glint flared to life in his eyes.

Another shout cut off whatever he may have been about to say. A few meters away, Kirill leapt into the air to avoid a creeping briar, his body imploding into the smaller form of a bat. His clothes fell to the earth in a limp pile of velvet as the bat flew higher, screeching at the twitching briar now buried under his clothes. The briar twisted into the air, the prince’s tunic still dangling from its thorns, and Kirill flew into the sky. He made a beeline for the castle and vanished inside, no doubt to use the mirror to escape to Dacia. Irina’s laughter rang out in the air before going silent, signaling her return home with her husband.

Adonis burst out laughing. “I don’t believe our vampire wishes to be healed, Aiyana.”

Aiyana held out her hands. “I’m not trying to do it. The energy is working as it will.” Her voice echoed as it left her lips, reverberating with the power pulsing through her into the land.

A sharp bark sounded behind them, preceding the arrival of two giant wolves. The larger one, its fur a darker brown than its mate, bobbed its head in an awkward bow.

“Etienne, so pleased to see you’re all right.” Saamal bowed to his companion. “And you as well, Loupe.”

There was a thud behind them followed by slightly hysterical laughter. Amusement quirked up the corner of Saamal’s mouth as he found Patricio lying on the ground, holding his stomach as he rolled with laughter. His sword hung limply from his hand in the grass, covered in blood. More blood spatter covered the angel’s face, arms, and legs. His cerulean eyes glowed with a light to rival the fading moon, his hair appearing more golden as the sun started to send its first rays into the sky. Aiyana lifted an eyebrow at Saamal. He shrugged, his smile widening.

Adonis jogged over to the angel, putting his hands on his knees as he bent to inspect Patricio’s strange fit. After a moment, a grin split his face.

“He’s drunk,” the demon crowed. “Too much sin in too little time!”

Saamal chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “He will need help getting home.”

Adonis looked down at himself and back at the human Adonis who was still examining his body, hands on his chest as if he still couldn’t quite believe he was alive. “Kirill’s probably already back in Dacia, I can’t use the mirror for travel.” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “But if I’m not bound by flesh anymore…”

Saamal pulled Aiyana back as astral magic crackled in the air. Adonis’ body rippled and swelled, scales erupting as he grew larger and larger. His wings stretched until they nearly blocked out the light from the rising sun, and his snout extended from his face, serpentine tongue flicking out. He fell onto all fours, his back legs continuing to grow thicker as his front legs sprouted sharp bony points on the elbows and wrists. Saamal grinned as the demon blinked draconic eyes the size and color of massive rubies.

“My friend, you are most impressive,” Saamal complimented him.

“He’s beautiful,” Aiyana breathed.

She reached out a hand and Adonis slid his snout under her fingers, letting her stroke the fine scales. He exhaled and smoke drifted from his nostrils, scented with cloves.

Saamal grabbed one of Patricio’s hands. “Come on, Prince Patricio, it’s time for you to go home.”

“I feel amazing.” Patricio’s head lolled against his shoulder, his muscles as limp as wet noodles. “I hope you’ll have me back soon.”

“I’ll be sure to make many more enemies for you to slay,” Saamal promised wryly.

“Not too many, I hope.” Marcela approached the group, her arms full of clothing. Her blue-green eyes shone as she gave her husband a once over. “He’s going to be fun to carry, Adonis. Somehow I think we’re going to need help keeping him on your back.” She turned to the wolves and set down her armload of clothing. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said to Aiyana and Saamal over her shoulder. “I borrowed some clothes for those of us who lose them when we change forms.”

“You are welcome to any clothing I have,” Aiyana assured her.

They all turned their backs, giving the lycan couple some privacy to shift and dress themselves.

“Adonis, you’d better not be peeking,” Ivy warned him.

There was an indignant snort, following by a cloud of clove-scented smoke.

A few moments later, everyone was dressed and Etienne and Saamal grabbed Patricio by his arms and dragged him over to Adonis. Aiyana giggled as they struggled to shove the angel onto the dragon’s back, cursing as his giant white wings hindered their progress. Etienne’s muscles bunched as he gripped the angel and heaved him up and very nearly over the dragon’s back to the ground on the other side.

“Not quite so enthusiastic, my friend.” Saamal tightened his grip on Patricio’s leg, barely keeping him astride the dragon.

Etienne grinned. “Sorry. Feeling a little more energized than I expected.”

Saamal glanced at Aiyana, appreciating her curves, so beautifully cradled by the exquisite fairy dress. “I can empathize.” He regretfully pulled his attention from his wife and faced the human Adonis.

“Welcome back to the living, Prince Adonis of Nysa.” The words tasted strange on his tongue as he used them for something other than the incubus.

“What a strange day it’s been.” Human Adonis accepted Saamal’s hand, brow furrowed in confusion. “I still don’t understand how… How is this possible? I died, I know I died. I met…the other Adonis.” He blushed. “I’m afraid I don’t recall what his name was before… I met him before my death, I spoke to him. I was so grateful he agreed to help, but I never thought… I never thought I’d…” He shrugged helplessly, running a hand through his hair.

Saamal stepped back and put his arm around Aiyana. “It is not everyday that a new earth goddess comes into her godhood. Earth deities have powerful creation magic, and it is never so great as the moment they first come into their power.” He beamed down at Aiyana, pride swelling in his chest. “Aiyana was waking up the land, pouring everything she was into the earth.” He glanced back at human Adonis. “I’m pleased to say it had unforeseen benefits.”

Human Adonis bowed slightly. “I will be forever grateful.”

“Not as grateful as I think your parents will be,” Aiyana guessed.

Adonis stiffened, every muscle in his body appearing to freeze in time. “Mother and Father.” He whirled around and clambered up the dragon’s side, muscles trembling with an excitement Saamal could only imagine.

“I’ll help hold the drunken angel on,” Etienne offered, ambling up beside the dragon. “If you’ll give us a lift to Sanguenay?”

The dragon snorted and lowered itself to the ground. Etienne helped Loupe and Marcela onto his back before climbing up himself and settling behind Patricio where he was slumped over the dragon’s back. Etienne hissed and glared at Patricio for a moment before grabbing his sword. He pressed his lips together and wrestled the weapon into the angel’s scabbard.

Saamal gathered Aiyana closer to him as they waved his companions off. He couldn’t quite make himself let go of her, didn’t want to risk letting go and discovering that it’d all been a dream. As the dragon rose into the air and flew off in the direction of Meropis, a rush of sound poured from the castle. Saamal and Aiyana turned to find people trickling out of the front doors in a staggering wave of color.

“The curse is truly broken,” Saamal observed. “Everyone is awake.”

“Will they remember the Dreamworld?” Aiyana wondered aloud.

“No. Mortals remember no more than bits and pieces of the other world. For them, it will be as if they slept for only a short time.”

“Then this is going to come as a shock.” Aiyana squeezed his hand.

“But perhaps not an unpleasant one.”

Tenoch’s voice came from behind them and the muscles in Saamal’s shoulders tightened. The ghost came to stand in front of him and Saamal’s lips parted in shock. The ghostly apparition that had become so familiar in the past hours was no more. Tenoch stood before him, still dressed as he had been at the time of his death, but with a body of flesh and blood. His color was a deep burnished copper, his eyes a rich chocolate brown. His hair hung down his back like glossy ebony feathers and the energy coming from him was no longer that of an ethereal being, but the warm hum of a mortal.

“Thank you for giving me my life back.” Tenoch bowed deeply to Aiyana.

“I am so very grateful I could,” Aiyana said sincerely. “But it wasn’t truly me, it was the land. That magic came from me, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I simply poured it into the earth.”

“Then perhaps you are already wiser than your predecessor. Perhaps the land knows what is best for it.” Tenoch faced Saamal, his face calm and expressionless, empty of the previous ire that had always accompanied his interaction with the god. “You are not the deity you were when I lived my first life. Whether you choose to follow this new path or return to your old one will determine who you are now.” He contemplated Saamal for a moment, brown eyes serious, reflective. “Your wife has a good heart. The land responds to her in powerful, compassionate ways. She will be a good influence on you, I think, if you will let her.” He crossed his arms. “What will you do now, Black God?”

Saamal didn’t have to ask to know he was referring to the human sacrifices. Strangely enough, part of him wanted to lie, to offer Tenoch assurances that what happened to him would never happen again, that no other man would ever go through the ritual that had taken his life. But no matter how he had changed, how he wanted to change, he couldn’t allow the past to repeat itself. Cipactli could not be ignored. “Tenoch—”

“There will be a different kind of sacrifice,” Aiyana interrupted. “A greater, but less deadly one.”

Unease rolled through Saamal’s stomach as he faced his bride. “Aiyana, you saw what happened to the land after the sacrifices were halted.”

“Yes, and I’ve also been one with the earth, felt Cipactli’s mind against my own. You were right, it’s not merely the flesh, it’s the sacrifice, the gratitude. Cipactli wants to be remembered, wants to be honored as she deserves to be.” Aiyana looked out over the land, paying particular attention to the people streaming out of the castle.

“From now on, there will be a festival in Cipactli’s honor. Everyone in the kingdom, man, woman, and child will offer a drop of blood in remembrance of Cipactli’s sacrifice.”

Saamal shifted on his feet, faint creases around his eyes betraying his doubt. “And you think that will be enough?”

“It is a lot of blood, and it’s even more honor. It should not be up to one subject to sacrifice for the greater good, one person to give up everything. All who benefit from the bounty Cipactli provides should take the time to honor her, to thank her. A drop of blood is very little to ask for, but it will be a strong reminder of the one who made all of this possible. And perhaps, this sacrifice will shift our people’s view of Cipactli as well. Perhaps there will be less fear with their honor.” Aiyana put her hand on his chest, a gentle, loving gesture. “As with you, perhaps they will find that their benefactors are not the unapproachable, terrifying gods they once were.”

“You make it sound like a lovely idea,” Saamal admitted. He brushed a lock of hair back behind Aiyana’s ear. “I trust your judgment. Let it be so.”

“If I may, I would be honored to oversee such a festival,” Tenoch offered, squaring his shoulders. He met Saamal’s eyes. “I will make certain that no…misunderstandings, mar the festivities.”

Despite the seriousness of his words, there was no malice, no accusation. It was an honest, sincere offer, and Saamal accepted it in the same spirit. Saamal bowed his head. “We would be most grateful for your diligence. If you’ll wait for a moment, we have people to greet and arrangements to make for a proper, formal wedding. Then I would be honored to see you to a place in the palace.”

“Thank you. I think I would like to spend some time in your forest, to reacquaint myself with the physical plane as a flesh and blood man again. I will come to the palace at sundown.”

“I will be waiting for you,” Saamal agreed.

Tenoch proceeded in the direction of the forest, his gait calm and leisurely, as if today were any other day. After a few feet, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. Saamal met his eyes calmly, standing tall and proud beside his wife. The time for guilt was over, today was a new beginning. Some of the tension in Tenoch’s shoulders eased. Without another word, he continued on his way to the forest.

Saamal pulled Aiyana into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth.

“I love you, my Briar Rose,” he said softly.

“Thorns and all?” she teased.

Saamal held her a little tighter, wishing the rest of the castle was still sleeping, if only for another year or so. “Especially the thorns.”

Epilogue

“So you didn’t know this was going to happen?”

Eurydice gaped at Tenoch, eyes wide and lips parted. The ghost was a ghost no longer. He stood in front of her tree, a living, breathing young man, with all the vibrancy of youth and all the warmth of the living. She had to try twice before she could speak.

“No, Tenoch. I had no idea.” She crossed her arms to avoid the urge to reach out and touch him, to see if he was truly as real as he appeared. “I knew that Saamal’s union would be powerful—he’s a god. But I had no idea…”

“It was his wife,” Tenoch mused. “Aiyana has become the new Spring Maiden. I believe they are calling her ‘Briar Rose.’” He contemplated Eurydice for a long moment. “I thought you could see the future?”

“No. I have no prophetic powers. However, as part of the World Tree, I can see many, many places. I am privy to enough information that I’m able to plan for the future better than most.”

“So you are striving to meet your goal through manipulation, not prophecy.”

Eurydice stiffened a little at his word choice, but Tenoch’s face betrayed no sign of judgment or condemnation. She relaxed a bit, smoothing her hands down her trunk. “It has been a long waiting game.” She glanced around, noticing that the darkness was growing, the sun well and truly set. Her boughs swayed with excitement. “It’s nearly time.” Her voice came out hoarse, stretched thin with her growing anticipation.

“Well then I’d better leave. I do not want to interrupt what has obviously been a long time coming.”

“Thank you for your help,” Eurydice said sincerely.

Tenoch bowed. “Thank you.”

The young man disappeared into the forest and Eurydice wrung her hands in excitement, her heart beating hard enough she could scarcely hear anything over the thundering of her pulse. It was done. It was time. Everything was in place. She was so nervous she put a hand to her stomach, willing herself not to be sick.

“I wish there were a way for me to thank you properly.”

Eurydice squeaked and jerked her head to the side to see Saamal leaving the cover of the forest to approach her in the clearing. The difference in the god was palpable. He stood taller, his gait was more confident, purposeful. His eyes shone like the moonlight off obsidian and the air around him seethed with wild energy. He stopped beside her and tears burned in Eurydice’s eyes even as she offered him a smile. “I’m so happy I could help.”

“You did more than help me unite with my bride. My land is green for the first time in nearly a century, Cipactli is more content than she’s ever been, and the human sacrifices that were necessary at one time are now a thing of the past. In more ways than one, you saved my entire kingdom.”

“And the Kingdom of Nysa as well.”

Eurydice and Saamal both turned at the sound of Adonis’ voice. The demon appeared as he usually did, thick upper body, hazel eyes, a mop of permanently windblown brown hair. But the energy roiling off of him was much stronger. Even from a distance, Eurydice could feel the power, like the strongest rays of the sun on a cool day. He gave Eurydice a cheeky wink and she blushed as she realized he’d caught her ogling.

“Is it true then, Adonis?” Eurydice asked. “Did Briar Rose really bring the prince of Nysa back from the dead?”

“Yes. I’m pleased to say he’s once again home with his mum and dad, and I am free to take whatever form I choose without expending the energy to animate someone else’s body.” He paused. “While we’re on the subject of your delightful bride, I have a message from our vampire friend, vis a vis, your wife’s recent…show of power.”

Saamal raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. Kirill wanted me to inform you that he isn’t coming into the clearing until you swear on your bride’s soul that you won’t bring him back to life. He wants to stay a vampire.” Adonis’ mouth twitched. “Also, he’s rather irate that Aiyana flooded the earth with that sort of regenerative magic without warning him. He considers it an egregious oversight on your part that you didn’t warn him.”

Saamal chuckled. “I won’t bring him back from the dead. Even if I wanted to—even if Aiyana wanted to—I’m afraid that sort of power is rare. I believe it was only Aiyana coming into her godhood that made such resurrections possible.”

Adonis rubbed the back of his head. “Would you mind swearing on Aiyana’s soul that you will not directly or indirectly cure Kirill’s vampirism?”

“He wants my oath?”

Adonis gave up the battle and a grin split his face. “He’s in a tree right now. He won’t even touch the ground near you until you swear.”

Eurydice hid her mouth with her hand, smothering her amusement.

Saamal rolled his eyes, but gamely repeated the oath. Adonis inclined his head in thanks and retreated back into the forest, returning a few minutes later with a wary vampire. For the first time since he’d started showing up at the World Tree, Kirill’s face was not the blank, unreadable mask Eurydice was so used to. Though his eyes remained crystal blue, there were a few glittering cinnamon flecks in their depths that betrayed his ire. Eurydice tensed but tried to remind herself that of all the princes, Kirill was the least likely to abandon their project based on hurt feelings.

“In the future,” Kirill said stiffly. “I would appreciate a warning if Aiyana intends to flood the land with the energy of creation. Not all of us wish to be…invigorated.”

“If I’d had any idea that was possible, I would have warned you,” Saamal assured him. “But as I told Adonis, it is unlikely that amount of power will ever be repeated.”

“Unlikely is not as reassuring as you seem to think.” Kirill paused, tilting his head in consideration. “Though, if it does happen again, I would appreciate advance notice. It would be quite agreeable for my father to be the recipient of such energy.”

Kirill’s lip quirked up at the corner, his eyes glazing over as if thinking of his father losing his immortality. Eurydice drummed her fingers along her trunk. Ever the planner, that boy.

A shadow glided over the clearing as Patricio circled above. The angel started his descent, and as he grew closer, Eurydice couldn’t help but notice the prince of Meropis appeared…bigger.

“As if you didn’t tower over us enough as you were,” Adonis muttered.

Patricio landed next to the demon and furrowed his brows, his head tilting to the side. “What?”

Adonis gestured at the angel’s increased height and the extra bulk in his upper body. Though the angel had always been large, he’d surpassed his seven foot height and was at least a few inches broader. The robe he wore didn’t move as freely as it once had, now clinging to the angel’s form like a second skin around his chest. 

“You seem taller.”

Patricio blinked as if startled by Adonis’ observation. He peered down at himself as though he hadn’t noticed the change, then tilted his head. “Hmm. I suppose I am.” He grinned, a faraway haze coming over his cobalt eyes. “I’d never slain an evil immortal before. I’ve never fed so deeply in my life.”

“Do you remember how you got home?” Adonis asked, an exaggerated innocent tone to his voice.

Eurydice pursed her lips. “Adonis,” she chastised him.

Patricio glanced from Adonis to Eurydice and back. “No. But I did have an odd dream about a dragon.”

“That was no dream.” Adonis stepped back and let his form shimmer and shift. A much smaller version of the dragon he had become yesterday rose from his body, enveloping his human form until only the draconic being stood there blinking at Patricio, its head even with the angel’s.

“The dragon dream was real?” Patricio narrowed his eyes. “You?”

Adonis beamed. “You’re welcome.”

“Yes, you’re welcome.” Etienne’s gruff voice drew everyone’s attention back to the woods where the werewolf was ambling out, still fastening his trousers. He eyed Patricio, the sparkle in his brown eyes belying the disapproving slant of his mouth. “You almost fell off twice. Those wings are a nuisance in small quarters.”

Patricio blinked. “Nuisance?”

“He was the one in charge of holding you on my back,” Adonis supplied helpfully. “You were too busy giggling to hold on and you were so drunk we were afraid you’d fall off.”

“Damn near did,” Etienne muttered. “If Marcela hadn’t—”

“You’re all here.”

The words exploded from her, completely bypassing her brain, a pure expression of the anticipation that had built over centuries. Eurydice’s cheeks burned with a ferocious blush as all five princes faced her, startled expressions on their faces. Her body was trembling and she couldn’t help it, didn’t have the focus to concentrate, not at the moment everything she’d been working for was about to happen. They all stared at her like she’d gone mad, and all she could do was wring her hands, trying to hold herself together a little longer.

“You’re all here,” she repeated, her voice barely audible.

One by one, understanding dawned on each of their faces. A sudden weight fell over the clearing, the eerie calm preceding a suspenseful revelation. All traces of amusement vanished. Saamal was the first to step forward, drawing his dagger from its sheath at his side as he did so. He drew it over his palm and pressed it to the tree. Power lashed through the clearing, a sharp sizzling crack of energy followed by a thunderous boom that shook the skies.

Kirill produced a thin silver blade from the depths of his cloak and glided up to the tree. A flash of silver later, dark scarlet blood welled from his hand, leaving a slick trail over the rough bark as the vampire slid his hand over the tree. The crisp scent of winter’s deepest frost bit the air, raising gooseflesh on the princes with bared skin.

Etienne’s skin twitched and when he exhaled, there was a thick cloud of vapor. He glanced at Kirill, but the vampire lifted a shoulder, a silent acknowledgment that he’d done nothing intentionally. The werewolf shivered as if ridding himself of the chill and stalked over to the tree, biting his own hand and smearing his hot blood on the bark. A howl rolled through the clearing, not a sound, but a vibration in the air. Etienne lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes, bathing in the sound. Kirill tilted his head, listening, and the others shared considering looks.

Patricio drew his sword over his palm, paused, and offered the blade to Adonis. Eurydice’s heart fluttered with joy as the demon accepted the offer, drawing his own hand over the blade. Together they put their palm to the bark. A blaze of fiery heat followed by a gust of wind so strong it blew Patricio’s wings back from his body, sending them into the air like a ship’s sails on the horizon.

The wind continued to tear through the clearing, followed by the singe of unholy heat and then the bitter sting of frost. All the while the vibration continued to reverberate around them, making Eurydice’s branches tremble and the very bark around her body quiver. Thunder rumbled overhead and bright flashes of lightening broke up the night sky. Eurydice’s breath caught in her throat and she lifted her face to the heavens.

Please, she thought, closing her eyes. Please.

For several seconds, she held her dream in her mind’s eye, thought of everything she’d done to get to this point, all the promises that had been made to her. She’d done all she could, everything she’d been told. She opened her eyes.

A massive fog rolled toward the clearing, oozing through the forest and swallowing everything in its path until there was nothing as far as the eye could see except billowing gray clouds. The mist stopped short of the princes and Eurydice, leaving the clearing untouched. Kirill shifted uncomfortably, eyes shimmering with cinnamon sparks as he took in his new surroundings with budding distrust.

A loud crack shattered the silence, not the boom of thunder, but something more earthy, wooden. Eurydice’s lips parted, her head falling back as the energy building inside her trunk, seeping into her from the blood coating her tree, rushed through her body and into her branches. Another sharp crack sounded and Adonis shouted. One by one, the princes’ hands vanished from her trunk, leaving the bark of the tree to splinter around Eurydice’s body. Sensation flowed down her form, air brushing against new skin through the cracks in the shell around her. Groping around, Eurydice grasped the branches closest to her and held on as the trunk of the tree split open.

“By the gods.” Patricio’s mouth opened and closed like a fish hauled onto the earth, blue eyes wide.

Cool air hit Eurydice’s flesh…all the way down to her legs. She cried out as her body pitched forward, no longer supported by the shell of a tree trunk. Her legs, too new to support her, buckled. Etienne leapt to catch her, gathering her to his broad chest and holding her as Saamal and Patricio rushed to gently ease her legs from the remains of the tree. As soon as her body was completely free, the crack in the World Tree shifted, swirled, healing before their eyes. Eurydice stared as the trunk closed up, as smooth and unbroken as it had been the day she’d first laid eyes on it.

“I’m free.” The words echoed in the air around her, teased her ears. She tensed as the full realization of what had happened hit her. Desperate hope seized her, holding her breath prisoner in her lungs. She scrabbled against Etienne’s chest, trying to push herself up, wildly searching her surroundings. The mist was starting to clear, but it moved so slowly. Everything was cloudy—she needed to see!

Patricio noticed her panic. He beat his wings, stirring the air and pushing the fog back. Saamal took the hint and raised his hands. Wind sprang from his palms and surged outward, rolling the cloud back like a thick rug. Etienne stood up, offering Eurydice a better view.

They were on a giant hill overlooking the most vibrant wilderness Eurydice had ever seen. Mountains rose in the distance like towering sentinels, sparkling snow covered peaks providing a sharp contrast for the patches of darkness flowing down their sides that spoke of deep caves. Lush forests rose up on either side, their trunks a dark maze of moving shadows and their canopy a rustling velvet green blanket. A rushing sapphire river flowed through the valley from the mountains, splashing around jagged rocks and washing at the sloping banks. The sky was a pure midnight with the largest full moon Eurydice had ever seen, a ball of silver light that lit the valley like a spotlight.

“Where are we?” Kirill breathed.

“This place has no name,” Eurydice answered absently. She strained to see around her, to hear any sounds of someone coming. Please, you have to be here.

“What do you mean it has no name?” Patricio asked.

“It didn’t exist before now,” Eurydice murmured. “That’s why I needed you, that’s why you needed to be mated. I needed a great deal of power, but it had to be power that could support creation. The World Tree passes through every world, every place. I needed it to grow so it would create a new place.”

“Why did you need a new place?” Etienne asked, still holding Eurydice as if she weighed no more than a tuft of fur.

A sweet musical note drifted through the air. Eurydice’s heart nearly stopped. It came again, closer this time. A high, graceful note so achingly pure that it hurt her heart to hear it. “Orpheus.” Her voice was barely more than a breath, a prayer offered to the wind.

The music came again, a long stream of notes this time, and it continued. A song. Their song. Their wedding song. Eurydice put her hands on Etienne’s shoulders, shoving herself higher up, cursing the sluggish movements of her legs, the limbs still adjusting to being attached to her body. “Where is he? Where is he?” Tears burned her eyes and her entire body shuddered, rattling her teeth and making it difficult to brace herself against Etienne’s broad shoulders. “I can hear him, where is he?”

“Shhh, it’s all right, calm down,” Adonis soothed.

“Who’s Orpheus?” Saamal asked, searching the surrounding area.

“Her husband,” Adonis answered simply.

The other princes stared at him, but Eurydice was beyond caring about their confusion. She tried to scramble to her own feet, but Etienne held her firmly, arms closing over her body like iron bands.

“Slow down or you’ll fall over.” He eased his grip, but kept the warning in his eyes.

“You know Orpheus?” Kirill asked Adonis. His note clearly stated his displeasure of not being privy to knowledge his protégé had had all along.

The music grew louder. A sob ripped from Eurydice’s throat as a figure emerged from the forest. He was as handsome as she remembered, long lean muscles, a head of unruly blond curls, and eyes the pale blue of robin’s eggs. He wore a simple white robe, absent of any ornamentation. He held his lyre in his arms, every brush of his fingers over the strings filling the air with a song sweet enough to charm the birds from the trees.

“Orpheus,” she cried.

The delight that brightened Orpheus’ face lit the darkness even more completely than the moon. He rushed toward her, dropping his lyre, and held his arms out. Eurydice sobbed harder, and fought Etienne’s hold. He released her as Orpheus drew close and she managed a few shaking steps and then collapsed into her husband’s arms. All the years they’d been apart, all the time planning, hoping, praying, it all crashed down on her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding his as tightly as she could, and cried.

Orpheus hushed her, humming low in his throat, seeking to calm her with music as he always had. Memories flooded over her and she pressed harder against him, terrified that she would wake up and find it had all been a dream, that the warm body against her, the strong arms holding her close, were nothing but figments of her ravaged imagination. She sucked in deep lungfuls of air, filling her senses with his scent, the wonderful aroma of the woods and the polish he used to shine his lyre so that it shone like the sun as he played. The sound of his voice, the vibration of his humming against her chest… It felt like home. She was finally home.

For a while, the world floated away. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed but this warm space in her husband’s arms. As the last of her tears dried on her face, Eurydice’s breath came slower, easier. Bit by bit, she became aware of Adonis’ voice.

“But on their wedding day, Eurydice was bit by a viper. Orpheus tried to save her from the underworld. He played music so sweet that Charon ferried him across the river without any coin, Cerberus laid down to sleep and let him pass, and even Hades and Persephone allowed him to enter their realm of the dead. He was allowed to try and take Eurydice from the underworld on the condition that he not look back to see her until the sunlight touched them both.” The demon hesitated.

“It’s all right,” Orpheus said quietly, his honey deep tone sliding down Eurydice’s skin like the familiar caress of a lover. “Most of the world knows how I failed.” He shifted beneath her cheek and Eurydice closed her eyes, not wanting to think about that day. “I acted too quickly. It was so hard to keep going without making sure she was really behind me and it wasn’t all some trick to get me out of the underworld. As soon as the sun hit me, I turned.” Orpheus dropped a kiss on Eurydice’s head, tightening his hold around her. “I played and I played, a sweeter song than I’d ever managed in my life, but nothing I did could get Hades to let me in a second time.”

He whispered the last sentence into Eurydice’s hair, something in his voice begging, pleading for forgiveness.

“I forgive you, my love.” Eurydice tilted her head up to smile at her husband. She laid a gentle kiss on his lips, sharing their breath for one glorious moment. “It wasn’t your fault. It was the maenads. Even if you’d managed to rescue me, they would have found another way.”

“Who?” Kirill asked.

Eurydice focused on Kirill, laying her head on Orpheus’ chest and listening to the calming rhythm of his heart. “The maenads, the female followers of Dionysus. They were furious that Orpheus had married, outraged that he’d abandoned the worship of Dionysus and entered a monogamous relationship with me. They blamed me for taking him away from them, and it was they who set the viper on me.”

“Dionysus changed them all to trees after he discovered what they’d done.” Orpheus buried his face in Eurydice’s hair. “It gave no comfort though, not when you were gone.” His voice thickened with the threat of tears. “Not when I failed to get you back.”

“It wasn’t enough to part us for life.” Eurydice clenched her hands into fists. “They sought to part us for eternity. They hovered over me while I lay dying, told me they would lay a curse on you, so that no land would ever welcome you, that you would travel forever. Even the underworld would shun your presence. They announced that we would never again be together in any world under the stars.”

“And so you created a new world.” Kirill shook his head. “How?”

Eurydice settled against Orpheus, soothed by his hand stroking her back. “Even though he refused to let Orpheus in a second time, Hades was not unsympathetic. He had no love for the maenads, and his wife Persephone despised them. I was a dryad, and so he agreed to let me merge with the World Tree, if it would accept me. I could see any world, but if I wanted to see Orpheus again, I needed to find a way to grow, to gather enough power to create a new world. If it didn’t exist at the time of the maenads curse, it would be immune.” She paused and glanced at Kirill. “There was another catch.”

The vampire tensed, as did the others.

“And what would that be?” Patricio asked warily.

“If I were to create a new kingdom, I had to have a way to rule it. I couldn’t simply create a new land and leave it to fall into chaos while I reunited with my husband.”

Kirill perked up, eyes sharpening. “That is why you chose princes.”

Eurydice nodded. “You were raised to rule, but you are not yet responsible for your own kingdoms. Gathering five of you would allow you to rule as a council, and should you become kings of your own kingdoms, you would still be able to offer guidance for the ruling of this one.”

She looked around at each of them in turn, remembering fondly the first time she’d seen each of them alone in their kingdoms, had realized they were the ones to help her. A genuine smile came to her lips as she recalled the night they had first come to her, the joy of watching them grow closer, learn to trust one another.

“Each of you has something to bring to the ruling table.” She faced Etienne and the werewolf tilted his head, waiting patiently for her to continue. “Etienne, you offer balance. You have the instincts and strength of a beast, but you have learned to mitigate that with rational thought without completely ignoring what your instincts tell you.”

She turned to the vampire, shaking her head in amusement as she noticed the slight movement under his cloak, a sure sign the undead prince was toying with a weapon, soothing himself in his own unique way. “Kirill, you have ambition greater perhaps than I have ever seen. You will always strive for improvement, and unlike others who show ambition, you never let it rush you into doing something foolish.”

The scent of cloves tickled her nostrils and she arched an eyebrow at Adonis as the demon took another puff of his cigarette. The demon tensed, smoke slowly flowing from his nose. “What?” he asked, another cloud escaping his mouth. 

Eurydice chuckled. “Adonis, your passion is unrivaled and your playfulness never ceases to melt even the sternest of hearts.” She glanced meaningfully at Kirill who lifted one shoulder in a shrug. She returned her attention to Adonis. “You know how to talk to people, how to put them at ease. For a king to be loved by his people is a powerful motivator, and you will no doubt be the heart of the kingdom.”

“My avenging angel.” Patricio stiffened as she focused on him, his imposing height and size in charming contrast to the childlike caution in his cerulean eyes. “Patricio, you are justice incarnate. You will bring safety to your people, and guard against the chaos that Hades warned against. I know you have felt unloved, unappreciated by your people, but I have seen you grow so much. You will be loved, not only by your lovely wife, but by everyone lucky enough to come under your protection.”

She smiled and faced Saamal. “And you, Saamal, perhaps more than anyone, know what it is to create a new world. You know the responsibility that comes with it, the dedication that it needs, the patience it takes to watch it grow and thrive. I can think of no one better to oversee this new land’s first years.”

“I am honored to be part of this.” Saamal bowed slightly. “I will strive to be worthy of your faith.”

“And who will populate this kingdom?” Kirill asked. He gestured at the wilderness around him. “This is a new kingdom. As I understand it, that means there is no one here to rule? Are we to be responsible for population as well?”

Adonis perked up, eyes brightening, and Eurydice laughed, an involuntary blush heating her cheeks.

“Adonis, your wife would have my head if I put such a burden on you—and so early in your marriage.”

“I can’t think of a better way to cement a marriage,” Adonis protested.

Orpheus chuckled and Eurydice elbowed him in the ribs. “As is the case with every world the World Tree passes through, the tree’s power will allow plants and animals to pass into this land much the same way you all came to the same clearing from each of your kingdoms. As for people, that will be left to you.”

She slanted a glance at Adonis. “You do not have to populate it with your own children. I would recommend that each of you search your own kingdoms for lords and ladies that you feel would be a valuable addition to this land. Your control over access to this kingdom will not be absolute. There will be those who find it on their own, through magic, through design, or through dumb luck. You can’t stop such things, believe me. However, you can choose those you invite, those you want to help you build this kingdom, to help you deal with those who find their own way here.

“When you have someone you wish to invite into this world, simply bring them to the World Tree on the night of the full moon, and then leave the clearing with this land pictured in your mind. That is all you need to travel here.” She stroked a hand down Orpheus’ cheek. “I will be here to help you if you need me, my princes, but my active part in this kingdom is over. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with my husband.” Orpheus’ eyes darkened, a spark in the blue depths promising the wedding night she’d been robbed of so many centuries ago. Eurydice shivered and pulled him closer.

“Choosing people to occupy this new land is quite a responsibility.” Patricio rolled his shoulders as if mentally preparing himself for the task ahead, his wings fluttering behind him. “Do you have any suggestions?”

Kirill cleared his throat. “I have often considered who among my kingdom I would choose to put in power after I finally take over my father’s throne.”

Etienne eyed the vampire suspiciously and Eurydice hid a giggle in her husband’s chest.

“What are you saying?” the werewolf asked warily.

Kirill smiled, a slow curling of his lips. “I have a list.”

THE END

That’s the end of the Blood Prince series, but there’s a new spin-off series coming. After all, what’s a new kingdom without lords and ladies for the royal council to rule over? If you want to receive an alert when this new series kicks off in 2015, . There will even be a few bonus stories coming soon to tide you over. Starting with the retelling of A Christmas Carol featuring our own Blood Prince Kirill in .

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